Volume 2: All Gifted
by Traumedy 101
Summary: Set after How to Stop an Exploding Man, the secret is out. The Government has set up an Agency to deal with threats like Sylar, but with the Company absorbed by the agency, new more dangerous threats arise, leaving many to wonder if the Company was so bad
1. Four Months Gone

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Peter Petrelli's Apartment**_

It seemed so long ago, that she watched her new found family fly into the air and explode. Claire sighed, taking a seat on the balcony overlooking the city. So much has changed since then; she's barely had time to process it.

It all started with the arrival of her biological father, Nathan Petrelli, flying in out of nowhere and taking Peter. By the time Nathan landed, the media was swarming over the area, looking for a missile silo. What they found was so much more dangerous. Nathan talked his way into being a hero, and accepted the position of the director of a new government agency to deal with these sorts of threats two weeks later. The first thing he did was hire Mohinder Suresh to head the research division and Noah Bennet, her adopted father, to head the special operations.

Within weeks, the Agency had offices around the world, accepting others like them, offering them jobs and comfort. Of the first who came to the Agency was a woman named Arianna Hetford. She had a talent for healing, and took on the two men who were injured at Kirby Plaza. Both of them were now back on their feet, with barely visible scars.

Matt Parkman became the Agency's first agent, tackling the case of Sylar, who went missing. He also adopted Molly Walker, and the two live in Dr. Suresh's old apartment. They've formed an odd family, which is good, considering her family was killed by Sylar and his wife divorced him. Two months after the events at Kirby Plaza, Matt got his first partner, Bartholomew Ridge, a massive British man with enhanced strength.

DL Hawkins started a job as a city fireman, and he and his son, Micah Sanders, live two blocks away. His wife, Nikki Sanders, went missing sometime after he made it to the hospital. Claire often watched Micah, even though he's probably smarter than she.

Nathan put her up in Peter's old place, saying he'd like to see her when she got back. It was the first argument between Nathan and Noah. The two often struggle over to where Claire should be. Her relationship with Noah has become strained since she preferred to stay in New York and wait for Peter to return, and he wanted her to return to Odessa.

Claire's relationship with Nathan has grown little. He kept her updated with the search for Peter, and little else. There seemed to be a great deal of tension when she's with him. She understood. She reminded him of Peter, and despite wanting to get to know Claire, he couldn't help keep distant from someone who kept reminding him of very thing he believed he lost.

Claire sighed again, wishing Peter would just come back. She stood up, listening to the rock music being played loudly by her neighbor. She would say something if the man didn't creep her out. He was covered in tattoos of dragons and smelled of smoke. His hair was the color of his eyes, grey. All in all, he was just creepy, and she was a little scared. So, she blocked it out.

Stepping inside, she heard a new sound, which was that of clicking keys. Micah was here for the night, and was already away on his computer. He sat, staring intently at as his laptop, his face illuminated. "Hey, Claire," he said, distantly.

"Hey, Micah," she said, smiling a little at him. He, too, had gifts. Micah could communicate with technology, and he was great help when something broke around here. "If you would tear yourself away for a minute, I'd like to know what you want to eat tonight."

"Whatever's fine with me," he said, glancing her way. "You should check this site out. I think you'd like it." She sat down behind him, looking at the screen. "It's like MySpace, but for people like us."

Two chat windows were open on his screen, one with messages from a 'Compass' and the other from a 'Viral', and in the background, she could see his profile. He called himself Technon. "Who are you talking to?" She asked, concerned.

He pointed to of the chat boxes, the one from Compass. "This one is Molly Walker. You know her. The other is a guy from Canada who has the same powers as me, only advanced. He says he can build devices for just about anything! He works for Mohinder."

"How do you know he works for Mohinder?"

"He told me to contact him," Micah said, a little exasperated.

Claire's smile grew. "How about pizza?" Micah nodded, once again becoming absorbed his laptop. She picked up the phone and stepped into Peter's room. In a way, the explosion was a good thing. It brought people like her together. Without it, she never would have known Micah or DL, or any of the other people surfacing. Still, she would have to tell DL about this Viral guy. There was just too big of risk that this guy could be a pervert or, worse, like Sylar.

She shuddered a little at the thought of the man who once hunted her and killed a fellow cheerleader because he thought that she was Claire. The same man faced off against everyone at Kirby Plaza. She tried to shrug it away and called the pizza place. She knew she'd be having nightmares again tonight.

_**Kit Frost**_

_**New York City, New York**_

He stepped into the building as if he knew everything would change after this. He could always tell what would happen, and it worried him greatly. Kit was tall, blonde, relatively good looking, and in great shape. You had to be in his line of work. He walked up to the woman at the counter. Without looking up, she said, "Welcome to the Hart Center. How may I help you?"

"Christopher Frost, here to take the test," he said, hoping she wouldn't ask him to be more specific. Everyone else in his unit took the test and had been cleared. If he didn't he would be ostracized, outcast, and possible kicked out of the armed forces. He prayed he'd be cleared, but he felt otherwise.

She didn't ask him to be more specific, and he wondered if she'd been cleared. She was extremely sexy, and he'd like to ask her out, but again, he knew what would happen if he was seen with one of them. Instead, she asked him to a wait a moment, picked up the phone, and said, "Frost here for the appointment." When she was finished, she hung up and said, "Dr. Crane will be with you in a moment."

He'd barely sat down when he stood again; sure that a moment was really all would take. Sure enough, around the corner walked a tall thin man with graying hair and wire framed glasses. He stuck his hand out. "Dr. Crane, I presume."

The man nodded. "I'd ask how you know, but I think the answer is as plain as the name on my shirt." He gestured towards his name tag. Frost nodded, but he never saw the tag. "If you would, follow me."

Dr. Crane led the man down the hallway to an examination room. Frost sat on the bed and rolled up his sleeve, knowing that they took blood to do the test. Dr. Crane looked a bit surprised that Kit knew what he was going to do, but said nothing. After all, numerous people had taken the test. Surely, he could've gotten this information anywhere. He filled his syringe and excused himself.

Frost sighed, begging with whatever higher power was listening for the test to come back negative. It wasn't that he had anything against those people; it's what his unit thought that mattered. He'd never be given a moments peace, with all the taunts. They wouldn't leave him alone until he quit, and Frost was never a man who quit for any amount of resistance.

There was the nagging feeling in his stomach, though. He just knew that it would come back positive. The same way he'd known about the ambushes that almost took the lives of the men in his unit. He'd saved them that day because of a gut feeling, and his gut was never wrong. _Damn gut,_ he thought to himself. If for one day he could be wrong, he hoped it would be this day.

_**Nathan Petrelli and Noah Bennet**_

**_Kirby Plaza, New _York_, NY_**

The office was filled with silence. It hurt a lot for Nathan to walk in here everyday, but it was a great place for the Agency Headquarters. For many with gifts, Kirby Plaza symbolized the place where the time for hiding ended. For Nathan, however, it was when his old life ended. Heidi could only take so much but, God bless her, she was still with him. She still had yet to learn of Claire.

That pissed off Noah, the only one in the Agency with constant contact with him. Noah demanded daily that he spill the beans to Heidi. _If she's going to leave you over it, then she'll do it just as quick then as she will now, _he'd say. He was right, Nathan admitted to himself and to himself only. He was just waiting for Peter. He and Claire both were, and that was the underlying issue between him and Noah. Noah was ready to accept the fact that Peter most likely died in the explosion, but Claire believed that if she could survive Ted Sprague, then he could survive his own version of the man.

Noah had yet to start on him today, but Nathan knew it was coming. He hadn't missed a day yet, why would he start now. But Noah just nodded to him and left.

Nathan starred at the window at the skyline of New York, thinking about Peter, the same thing he did everyday for four months. Maybe it was time to change his beliefs. It'd been four months and there was no sign of Peter anywhere. Even Molly couldn't find him, and he asked her every week. There was nothing, except for the resources being used to try and find him. Resources better spent elsewhere, fighting the new threats that seem to pop up daily.

Threats like Nikki Sanders, who has been declared a threat due to her split personality more to being a danger to anyone otherwise. There were others like her, some dangerous, some just unstable. All of them proved a viable threat to the safety of people everywhere, and Nathan's just selfishly using resources that could be used to find and end these threats.

He nodded to himself, deciding to end the search for his brother. He pulled his phone out his pocket, went through his saved numbers, and dialed Claire's number. When she answered, Nathan could almost hear Peter laughing in the background, and he smiled and started to cry.

"Claire, we need to talk," he said.

"I'm about to sit down to dinner with Micah," she said, sweetly so as not to offend. "What is it?"

"I wanted to see if you had plans for lunch tomorrow. Maybe we could grab something." Noah would be so proud, reaching out to his daughter.

"Sure,"

"Alright then, I'll be there at about one. We'll decide where we're going when I get there."

"Cool. One, right? See you then!"

Nathan hung up, losing control of the tears now flowing freely. It just hurt too much to let go, and telling Claire would be the final part of giving up. He wondered how Noah would react.

_**Kit Frost**_

_**Hart Center, New York**_

When the door opened and Dr. Crane entered, Frost's stomach dropped. It was happening. Dr. Crane took a seat in the chair and opened his file. "Christoper Frost, you are evolutionary advanced. Just what talents you have, we don't know. That requires extensive testing. Now, you have several viable options."

Frost hung his head, not listening. Once again, his gut had not failed him. How would he face the guys again, knowing he was special? His career was over.

It wasn't until Dr. Crane tapped his shoulder that Frost listened again. "I know how you must feel, Mr. Frost. I see it quite a bit. You feel like everything has changed for the worse. Well, it has changed, but we can help you through it. Now it says you're a military man. You can either lie about you test results and return, not lie and return, or we can get you transferred to us. We need men of your talents to help catch others like yourself, people who want to take out their problems on the world."

"Wait, I can be transferred to the Agency?" Frost asked, seeing hope for his career after all. Imagine being the guy who takes Sylar down. That would be quite prestigious.

Dr. Crane nodded. "We have a deal with the US military that allows gifted soldiers a chance to escape an environment that doesn't accept them, and put them to use doing similar things for the world."

Frost smiled. "I think I know what I want to do."

"Welcome aboard, Mr. Frost," Dr. Crane said. "Of course, there are a few things we have to do first. There's paperwork to fill out, tests to do, and of course, you have to meet with Mr. Bennet before we can do anything. Consider yourself on hold for the Military, and you can meet him tomorrow at noon."

Frost stood to leave, then listened to his gut and said, "I know what my talent is, Dr. Crane. Precognition. I can always tell where danger is coming from, or what the best course of action is."

"We still need to run tests on you, to determine the extent of you ability, Mr. Frost. The truth is, we know about as much as you do about the extent of your ability. The whole things is very new to us all."

_**Claire**_

_**Peter's Apartment, New York**_

Micah was fast asleep in the guest bedroom, and Claire was well on her way to going to sleep. She just wanted to make a call to Mohinder first. She stood on the balcony, listening to the ringing on the other side of the line. Next door, the music had ceased.

Mohinder finally answered. "Claire, what is it? I've got a lot more patients to test before the night is over" He sounded cranky, but she knew Mohinder. He was just tired.

"I wanted to ask you about this guy you told Micah to contact online."

"Ah, Viral," he said, calming down a bit. "I happen to know him. He's in the other room, if you'd like to speak to him."

"No, I just wanted to make sure," Claire said. "I'm going to let DL know, though, so you may get a call from him."

"No point. DL was there when I told Micah to get a hold of Viral," Mohinder said. "In fact, I've been meaning to tell you about that website. It's only for registered EA's, so we know it's safe. You should check it out." EA was the acronym for Evolutionary Advanced.

'Alright, thanks, Mohinder. I'll let you get back to work." Claire hung up, a little unsatisfied. Something didn't feel right about anything. She shrugged, passing it off as just a bad feeling.

She locked the balcony door behind her, and went to bed.

_**Nikki Sanders**_

_**Bucharest, Romania**_

"I told you, I don't know who you're talking about!" she screamed in the face of her attacker.

He was tall, handsome, dressed in a long black coat, with black gloves covering his hands. Behind him, another man stood, shorter, dirty and shy. The second man refused to look Nikki in the eye, and it infuriated Jessica. Inside of Nikki, the second woman screamed for blood.

The first man grinned. "Nikki, we know Robert Bishop has been giving you pills to take off your 'little problem'. We know he is still in contact with you. We know you're in hiding until you can take of your problem. Now, if you just tell us where Bishop is, we'll be on way." He pushed his telekinetic grip on her harder, squeezing the air out of her against the wall. Nikki shook her head. "Fine, have it your way. Wyrm, leave the room,"

The second man grimaced at the sound of his name, and moved slowly, staring just away from Nikki's face. Then, he was gone.

The first man removed the glove from his right hand. "Give us a kiss," he said. He slammed his face into hers, locking their lips together. Nikki felt as if she'd throw up. His right hand slithered up her body to her cheek.

He gasped, breaking away from her. Nikki was gone, leaving only her clothes to fall to the floor, empty. Inside his head, he could hear Nikki and Jessica both, fighting to get out. New power flowed through him. He felt like he could take on the world.

"Wyrm, take us home," he said to the shy man as he peeked in.


	2. Moving On

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Sacramento, California**_

The call had come in from somewhere near the area that Matt and his partner now searched. They traveled on foot, heading through backyards. The Sylar Safety site tells those who encounter the killer to head for the nearest possible public place, but it seemed that the person who called either didn't or couldn't.

Matt looked over at Bartholomew Ridge, his partner, who was in the process of leaping a fence into someone's backyard, and tried not to read his mind. It was a trust issue between them. Ridge has been known to bench press cars, so Matt tried to stay on his good side.

The two of them were complete opposites. Ridge was tall, buff, and very intimidating. He was black and British, which confused most people. Matt, on the other hand, was relatively short and portly, with an accent from what could have been New York.

Ridge gazed around, hoisted up by the fence, and then nodded to Matt. Something definitely happened here. "We'll split up," Matt said. "We'll cover more ground that way. Shout if you see anything."

"I'm not shouting with a serial killer around, especially one who would very much like to cut me open," Ridge said, a little undignified.

"You know what I mean," Matt said, heading away from his partner and ducking into an alley. He pulled his gun out, knowing that Sylar could hear his footsteps for miles away. The killer probably already knew they were there. He only hoped it wasn't too late to save the caller.

_Matt, _Ridge's voice filled his head, slowing him down. _I'm at the caller's house. It's trashed, and there's a dead guy here. He isn't cut open, so I'm assuming he's still around here._

_That's good, _Matt sent back, not knowing if Ridge heard him or not. Even with the growing power, he was unsure if he could talk to people telepathically. He knew it worked on Molly, but he hadn't tried it on anyone else.

Matt stopped, expanding his mind to reach anyone in the area. He found a lot of dreams, mostly boring ones, but he did catch a few stray thoughts from the people at the gas station behind him. Then it came to him; the cold deadly voice of a killer._ Damn it girl! Quit phasing!_

He locked in on the thoughts and tracked them backwards. Sylar was somewhere near the gas station, with a girl. He sent a thought to Ridge, praying it made it, and took off at a near run. Whoever Sylar's victim was, she wouldn't have long.

He spotted them, across the street from the gas station; Sylar with his telekinetic grip on a young girls throat. Matt took careful aim, not wanting to hit the girl, and fired. Sylar's ear exploded in a mist of blood and cartilage. The killer screamed, losing his focus. The girl, back on her feet, phased through Sylar and ran over to Matt.

"You blew off my ear, Parkman!" Sylar screamed.

"You put four in me back at Kirby Plaza. Consider us even," Matt called back. _Just shoot him, mister!_ The girl's thoughts shrieked at him from such a close distance. He knew she was barely keeping from screaming it aloud. Matt knew what would happen if he did, and waited until Ridge got there. If he didn't catch the thought, he definitely heard the gunshot.

Sure enough, there was Ridge, on the far side of Sylar. Ridge gripped the back of car and threw it at Sylar. _Nice try, _Sylar thought, knowing Matt would hear it. He spun, sticking both hands out and catching some ten feet away from him. Matt dropped to a shooter's stance and fired three times. Nevertheless, Sylar tossed the car at Matt. It hit the ground, skidding towards him rapidly.

There was a whoosh of air, and Matt felt arms wrap around his chest. Then, the car was on top of him and the girl. It was an odd feeling that came over him. He could see sparks lighting the seat on fire, but all he felt was a rippling cold wash through him, again and again, until the car had passed. He stood, still whole, still with the girl wrapped around him. "That was weird."  
Ridge, who had come over to possible call in about a downed agent, said, "Tell me about it."

Sylar was gone.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Manhattan, New York**_

Lunch with Nathan wasn't as bad as she thought would have been. They talked about things other than Peter, which was a nice thing. He'd said that he was going to tell Heidi about Claire soon, and that was even better. Nathan even brought pictures of his boys, her biological brothers, and that was just awesome.

Staring out the window, she thought about that most. She had a picture of each them now, tucked in her wallet. Monty and Simon. She couldn't wait to meet them, maybe baby-sit so Nathan and Heidi could talk. She could tell, however, that there was a great sadness in Nathan. He seemed on the verge of tears the entire time, and he couldn't look her in the eyes.

"Claire, there's something I need to tell you," he said, and there was a note of finality in his voice that put her on edge. "I don't want to ruin what could be our best day ever together. Oh, who am I kidding? This was really our only day together." He pulled over, and started to weep.

"What is it?" Claire asked, hating to see anyone in the shape he was in, especially after they had tried so hard to make her smile all day.

"It's about Peter."

He ruined it. Claire never wanted so much to run from someone as she did right then. She'd rather be in a car with Sylar, telling him to be gentle when he ripped open her head and looked inside. Anywhere but here, that's all she could think about. She forced her mind on the pictures of her new brothers. She knew what it was about, and she knew that her father, Noah, had probably been trying to force this for some time. Noah tried on her almost every time he saw her.

"It's been four months, and no sign of him, anywhere," Nathan said, his arms shaking. "Not even Molly could find him. We have new threats the likes of Sylar and worse popping up all over the world, and we just don't have the resources to fight them and search for him."

"Shut up," she said. "Stop trying to justify it to me. You're giving up hope. You know Peter; you know what he can do. He can heal."

"Claire, he blew up. How can anyone heal from that?"

She opened the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Don't bother telling Heidi. If you can't have faith in your own brother, how can you possibly have faith in us?" She stormed off, fighting off her own tears. To hell with Nathan. She knew where she was, and could make it home on her own.

_**Kit Frost**_

_**Hart Center, New York**_

He sat in there chair, waiting. He knew what was coming, and it was kind of disappointing. He was accepted, but he wasn't being put on the Sylar case, the one that can make a career. Instead, they were putting him on hold until the next case came up, and that could take awhile. He couldn't see the future that far in advance.

Mr. Bennet entered the room, a smile on his face, a file in his brief case. "We have a partner for you, but she's a little different."

"If means I can get to work faster, than I'll take Mighty Mouse," Frost said. He ignored the queasy feeling in his stomach that meant his joke wouldn't take. He wouldn't be intimidated by this man.

Noah chuckled, however, disproving Frost's gut for the first time. Something was foul here, he just didn't know what. "I'm glad to hear that. We're a little spread thin around here when it comes to agents, what with all the new people manifesting abilities and Mohinder's research on them. We'll probably have an assignment for you this afternoon, at the latest. I think we should discuss something first. I'm under the impression that you don't really know what agents do."

Frost nodded. "I do. We're sent out to neutralize people with dangerous abilities."

Noah frowned. "That is it, but not entirely. Not every dangerous person is a threat. Most just don't know who to handle the gifts when they manifest. You're job is go, neutralize them, and bring them in so they can learn control in a safe environment. We have a facility in Australia, perfect for the more dangerous abilities."

So that was what made his stomach uneasy. It wasn't that he wouldn't have a case for awhile, but that his cases weren't what he expected.

"In fact, your partner is already on assignment, waiting for you in Phoenix," Noah said, picking the files out his brief case. He handed one of them to Frost. "She, too, is ex-military. That's on top of being ex-SWAT. Her name is Ashley Tisdale, but she goes by Ashe. She is the best match we could fit to you particular gift."

Frost opened the file, glanced at a picture of a young woman, maybe late thirties, with crimson hair and a lightly freckled face. Instead, he was more interested in what she could do. He found it, and then it was his turn to frown. "Bone manipulation?"

"Confusion is to be expected for the first few outings, Mr. Frost," Noah said, smile returning, "especially with such an unknown ability. Don't worry. It's her own bones she can manipulate, not yours. She has been known to just bone shards out of her wrists, or form a sort of armor. The good news is that her skin heals quickly when the bones just out of her. It's pretty disturbing the first time you see it, but you look like a man who can stomach it." He handed the second folder to Frost. "Your first assignment."

"This kid?"

Noah nodded. "With a single touch, he can destroy all of the cells in your body within minutes, and he is unable to shut it off, as of yet. We need you to tranquilize him and take him to the nearest Hart Center."

Knowing he couldn't refuse, Frost nodded.

"Good," Mr. Bennet said. "Dr. Crane will give you your equipment on the out."

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Peter's Apartment, New York**_

She couldn't hold her tears all the way to the door, and she broke down in the lobby. The creepy next door neighbor was there, but he didn't look at her; he was on the phone, purposefully ignoring her. She stumbled up the stairs and fumbled with her keys, glad that Micah had gone back to DL this morning.

Claire burst into Peter's apartment and collapsed into the couch. She thought she would cry more with his stuff all around her, but it was comforting. That is, until someone knocked on the door. She knew it was Nathan, come to try and justify the reason he'd given up on Peter. She didn't want to hear his excuses, and ignored him.

A voice carried through, confusing her. "Claire?" It wasn't anyone she knew, and she wondered how they knew her name. She stood, wobbly in the knees, and went to the door, peeking through the peep-hole. It was the tow-headed neighbor. "Claire?"

Anger flooded through her until she though she would scream at him to leave, but she saw herself reaching out to the door and twisting the knob. He stood before, his hands in his pockets, looking more than a little uncomfortable. "What?"

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but see you crying on your way in," he said, blushing a little. "I just wanted you to know that if you needed to talk, there's always me. My father taught me to never let a crying girl cry alone."

"How do you know my name?"

"Ah, that," he said. "Again, I've heard it used a few times around here. That, and I recognized you're from the pictures of Kirby Plaza. I know you name wasn't mentioned, but you can find out anything online."

"Who are you?"

He shifted, nervously. "I'm you neighbor. My friends call me Smokey."

Claire began to feel foolish for being a little afraid of the guy. She stuck her hand out, and he shook it. "I'm just not in the mood to talk about it, especially with a guy I just met, but thank you anyway."

"Well, just so you know," he said, smiling big and blushing even more, "I'm almost always in. If you want to talk, you know where I'll be." He started to go, but then stopped. "Oh, there is a place where you can keep you anonymity and talk to anyone. It's online, kind of a MySpace for gifted people."

"Yeah, I know the place."

"Well, alright. Bye."

"Bye." She shut the door as he left, feeling slightly better for having meet the man, but she couldn't help but wonder. Could Peter have survived?

_**Martin Baker**_

_**Location Unknown**_

He was dressed impeccably in his white lab coat, perfect for a day at the office. He entered the bunker's lab at precisely ten p.m. Julie, the lab assistant, was on duty as usual. Often, he daydreamed about feeling her up on her desk, but shoved the thoughts away now that work called.

He was gifted in ways that made him an asset to the project. He could sense the powers of others if they used them within a certain radius of him. Each time he practiced, he expanded that radius; he was now up to three hundred yards. Julie, too, was gifted. Hers was minor compared to his, and he was not about to be bothered by knowing what it was.

Dr. Baker lifted the chart and gazed at his shrinking patient list. Two were one assignment for the boss. The other two were considered too dangerous for public use at the moment. Point Zero constantly slept in his room, with moments of extreme pain caused by seizures. With every seizure came the source of his gifts. Not the telekinesis with which he used to trash the office, but the beneath it. He showed great promise in the program.

Point One was found around the same time as Zero. One gave his name as Sylar, and that was good enough for the boss. Sylar had already acquired numerous abilities before he came to the project, and has since gained flight and spontaneous regeneration. According to the study, only three people left on earth had this ability naturally, and that would only last as long as Point Two didn't find them first.

Two gave his name as Legion, and was perhaps the strangest of them all. He was the first one to go out in the field, and contained a number of useful traits. Among them was telekinesis and pyrokinesis. He has since added enhanced strength.

Point Three was the least likely to go out in the field, as he could not actually obtain other abilities by any means. He was, however, likely to be the number one choice in the program, since his own ability can be used any number of ways. He didn't give a name, but he had one other that Point Three. Jonathan Baker, his name was, Martin's only child.

Jon had the ability to absorb, discharge, and manipulate energy. It sounded like a lot for one gift, but it was all the same. The energy he absorbed had to be discharged, and how it discharges is up to Jon. So far, the project has discovered that he can propel himself through the air, energize his or other peoples cells to increase healing speed, and stimulate his own muscles to give him enhanced strength and speed. They, however, lacked the full punch of someone with the gifts naturally.

Martin gazed in at the people in his care. Both were locked up, safe and sound. Day's work over, he thought to himself. Returning the chart to Julie's desk, he caught sight of a newspaper, an old one at that. On the front page, it covered the explosion four months ago. He smiled, thinking of the man who exploded. That was a candidate for the program if any existed.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Peter's apartment, New York**_

She sat at her laptop for the first time since Nathan gave it to her and logged on to the internet. It was one of the benefits of living in the apartment building; free internet. Well, it was included in the rent, and Noah paid that. She typed in the web address, waited a few seconds, and then she saw it. The same website as the one Micah was on. She clicked on create a new profile.

It asked no real personal information, like where she lived or her real name, but it did ask her power. It was so like gifted people could link up, it said. She gave her power, and then it asked for a screen name. It recommended she use one that kind of hinted at her gift.

Claire thought long and hard, then typed one in. It came from her conversations with the Haitian. _Freakshow._ It somehow seemed appropriate. She hit create profile, and soon she was staring at the way the world would soon see her; anonymously. She spent a few minutes hunting down Micah and Molly, sending them friend invites with a message telling them who she was. She was about to log off when someone sent her a message.

She opened it. It was from a guy who called himself Shade. _Freakshow, huh? With a talent like yours, I'd call myself blessed._

Claire smiled. Unaware of what she was doing, she sent a message back. _So what does your mean?_

_I can manipulate shadows, _another message popped up.

_That's cool,_ she sent right back.

After a minute, Claire thought that Shade wasn't going to write her back and was about to log off when he did. _Yeah, well, it got me kicked off the football team, like my performance was enhanced by it._

_Well, I'm sure it could be used to your advantage._

She sat there all night, talking about his gift and hers, how it affected their lives, and the things they were missing out on. The sun was coming up when Shade finally said he had to log off, with one last message. _Think about changing your screen name. I refuse to call you that, and I don't recommend telling anyone your real name. Until then, I'll just call you Phoenix._

She smiled, logged off herself, and then went to get some sleep.


	3. In Shadows

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Peter's Apartment**_

The sun was going down when Claire finally woke up. Never before had she spent all night on the internet, talking to someone she'd probably never meet, or even know their real name. It was a freeing feeling she felt, like she could say anything to this guy and not fear it coming back to bite her,

She crawled from the bed, a little thick headed from sleeping so long, and went to the bathroom. Finishing that, she wandered about the kitchen, looking for something to eat.

It struck her like thunder. It was the first time she woke up not thinking about Peter, her two dads, or anything else. She almost dropped the leftover pizza she'd pulled from the fridge. It amazed her at how fast her situation had changed due one small detail. Here she stood, in her presumably dead uncle's kitchen in a pair of his scrubs, not wondering if he was dead or alive. It was like a bowling ball had dropped in her stomach. Besides, wasn't she supposed to be mad at Nathan for doing the same thing?

On the counter, her phone blinked, telling her she had messages. Claire picked it up as she went to sit on the couch. Flipping it open, she groaned. They were all from Nathan. He probably just wanted to know if she made it home okay. If she didn't, Noah would more than likely beat the crap out of him.

She laughed at that image and opened the laptop Nathan had given her. The thought of her father trying to beat up a guy who could fly was laughable. She logged onto the site with ease this time. Already, she had several friend invites, including one from a night club called Mutant. That one intrigued her. She clicked on the link, which brought her to a page about this club.

Mutant offered a safe club environment for people with gifts, taking a stand against the common hatred for their 'kind' that people felt after the explosion. Bar, live music, karaoke, and nothing but people with gifts. She added it to her friends list, as well as one from Shade, the ex-high school quarterback.

Claire sat there for awhile, letting her mind jump where ever it wished and ate. Her neighbor had said something that caught her attention, but she didn't look into it then. "Like MySpace for freaks like us," he'd said the night before. She never told him that she had an ability, nor did she know that he did. It was a matter that called for some investigating.

A clip popped up in her message box, and she watched it while she ate. The caption included asked whether or not the Agents that were supposed to protect them were up to snuff. The video showed a rather odd camera angle from gas station security camera of an agent being phased through a car by a bystander or possible victim. She thought she recognized the agent.

A moment later, she remembered. Matt Parkman, the guy from Kirby Plaza who took four in the chest. It was also the cop who'd arrested and held Peter back in Odessa when Sylar attacked.

She went to a news-site and there on the front page was a screen grab from the security video with the caption, 'Public demands Parkman's job removed'. The story was in the same vein:

'…_Many people are upset over the incident. In another skirmish with the killer Sylar, Parkman is shown endangering the possible victim and himself in what is being called a desperation move to take down the killer. If it wasn't for the girl herself, who we will not name due to privacy laws, both of them would have been killed. The public outcry has been universal in demanding that Parkman, at the least, be pulled off the Sylar case. Agency directors are expected to a make a statement later in the week…'_

Claire found herself revolted at the news. Parkman did what he had to, and in all of Dr. Suresh's talks, he talks about helping each other out in times of need. Both of them did what they could and both of them walked away. Why should he be fired over something that they are told to do? Without him, Sylar's victim list would have skyrocketed. Claire prayed they didn't find out that Molly was his secret weapon.

Molly's power of finding people has grown tremendously in the last four months. Now, not only can she find Sylar, but she can identify his next victim, allowing for ambushes and stings.

At the bottom of the story where a few more links to related stories, one involving the groups trying to oppress the evolutionarily advanced, and another about the latest Sylar victims. She clicked this one.

The list had grown astronomically in the past week or so. Just after last night, five new names had been added. The girl who phased Matt and herself through a car, Claire discovered, legally couldn't be revealed without parental permission due to the fact that she was a minor, which was now impossible since her father's name was added to the Sylar obituaries, which gave away her name anyway. Claire decided that she would report this little loop hole to Noah, later.

_**Smokey**_

_**New York City, New York**_

He sat in his armchair, listening to Claire breathe next door, hating the requirements of his job. Now that he knew she was there, he picked up his phone and dialed the first number in his registry. A moment later, Mr. Bennet answered. "Well?" he asked.

Smokey nodded. "She's in there, sir. She slept most of the day, but she's fine."

"Good," Noah said, exhaling in relief, then he hung up. Smokey smiled, putting his phone back in his pocket. Mr. Bennet never did have good phone manners. Nor was he as good a judge if character as he thought. Smokey had other bosses, more important bosses, each with a reason to keep an eye on Claire.

Smokey, or Brian Alder, was chosen as a way to keep everyone honest. To date, he'd received payments from three different people, each with a separate interest in Claire. That didn't include his real boss, the only one of them that had his real loyalty.

First, there was Noah and the Agency. They paid the worst, but of the other three, they were the only with a 'wholesome' interest in the indestructible cheerleader. Both of her fathers were in charge at the Agency, biological and adopted. Both wanted to be kept in the loop. Both wanted only good things for her.

Then, there was Prometheus, an organization that wanted to study Claire, cut her up and see what grew back. Their only interest was that no one else got to her first, not until they were done with her. They were his only real conflict of interest; it was only a matter of time before they sent one of their own after Claire, and Smokey would then be forced to reveal himself to Claire. Prometheus would not be a happy camp.

The other group was a more secretive group; a company that everyone thinks is dead. Smokey had been contact by Robert Bishop after he'd moved in. They were interested in Claire's blood, thinking it a cure-all to everything. As of yet, they've made no move neither towards nor away from Claire, and Smokey liked it like that.

His real employer did not pay, and he refused to even think about them, per chance that someone like Parkman was around. Speaking of them, he had a phone call to make. He removed his phone, and called his contact, a woman Smokey called Swan.

"I think I've found the one we're looking for," he said, "but I may have blown my cover. We spoke the other day, sort of a neighborly thing, nothing to big, but I thought I should report it anyway." Swan said nothing, but he could hear the scratching of a pencil on paper.

After several minutes of silence, Swan speaks. "Very good. I don't believe this is a suitable reason for abandoning the watch, but it is nice to know that you're still loyal to us, considering what we have done for you."

"Always," Smokey said, trying to beat Swan's hang up, but he couldn't tell when the dial town kicked in. He sighed, dropping the phone to the coffee table and leaning back on his couch. Such was his life, constantly trying to reach out to those around him only to be hung up on.

_**Kit Frost**_

_**Phoenix, Arizona**_

The SUV bumped heavily as they headed away from the city into the surrounding desert. Next to him, Frost's partner Ashe sat quietly staring out the window. Caleb Valentine, an intensely silent young man with dark hair, sat in the back. He had given them a small demonstration of his talent, wilting a rose bush in a matter of seconds with just a glancing touch.

Ashe was clearly astonished at the strength Caleb's talent, or perhaps dismayed. Frost just thought it was cool and tried on several occasions to strike up a conversation with him. Neither the boy nor Ashe wanted to talk, and it was going to make this trip to Los Angeles even longer.

Frost clicked on the radio to a rock station and sat back, trying to enjoy the drive. All of them knew how it was going to end, with Caleb on a flight to Australia, and Frost and Ashe sent to collect another Evolutionarily Advanced person, or EA according to Ashe.

He glanced over at his partner. Ashe was quite the looker. He wondered just what she did in the Armed Forces, even asked her when they meet, but she refused to talk about it, or about her days in the SWAT. She seemed to ignore Frost completely, preferring to keep their talk about work and work only. Only once did she give a fleeting glimpse as to who she really was, and that was when the rose bush died. If this kept up, he thought, it was going to be a hard partnership destined to end in ruins.

He knew that the trip was going to go easy; he felt it in his gut. Secretly, he hoped the next trip would be a little more exiting.

The radio crackled to life, spitting out a spray of static before a woman's voice could get through. "Agent Parkman, come in. Repeat, Agent Parkman, come in."

Something surged in his stomach, a feeling he hadn't felt before. Instantly, he thought that Parkman was in some kind of danger. He could feel it radiate from the woman's voice. He hoped it wasn't serious, even though he wanted Parkman's job.

Matt spoke a few minutes later. "Marie, this Parkman. What is it?"

"You have a new assignment as of ten pm this evening," the dispatcher said. "You are to report to New Orleans and pick up a Class 2 suspect, name of Dawkins. Call base for more info."

The static died away, only to be filled with a voice Frost didn't know. "What's a Class 2?" He looked into the back and saw the inquisitive eyes of Caleb.

"A person of interest," Ashe said. "In this case, it probably refers to a gifted person Sylar may be after."

Caleb nodded, his eyes looking into the rearview mirror. "What am I?"

"Class 3," Ashe said. "It's a gifted person with possible dangerous talents, non-dangerous threat."

"What's a Class 1?"

Ashe frowned, her brow furrowing. "You sure do have a lot of questions."

"I like to learn," Caleb said.

With a sigh, Ashe said, "A Class 1 suspect is dangerous talents in a dangerous person. Mostly, it refers to Sylar."

The static spurted out of the radio again, and Marie spoke. "Parkman, come in. You have a phone call from Miss Walker. Repeat, Miss Walker for Parkman, waiting on line one."

_**Martin Baker**_

_**Location Unknown**_

Martin scowled at the boss, the pretty little blonde boy that Prometheus put here to keep an eye on him. He introduced himself as Adam Munroe, and said he had orders to speak with Point Zero. He was now in the cell with the subject, along with all the notes Martin had on him.

He excused Julie, took a seat at the desk, and listened in on the conversation. Munroe spoke first. "Mr. Petrelli, it has been four months now. I'm sure you are as eager to speak to us as we are to speak with you. I know Dr. Baker hasn't been very forthcoming with information as to your whereabouts or any other details, but he has been ordered to keep silent. First things first though, would you please tell us what abilities you are know to have?"

Point Zero mumbled something unintelligible. Baker frowned. Petrelli? They gave him the exploding man without informing him of it? They put him in danger, not to mention all his research in this facility.

Adam spoke again. "I'll tell you what we know, then, and you can just fill in the blanks. We know that you have a healing factor, you can turn invisible, fly, and have demonstrated very skill telekinesis skills. This, on top of all the abilities you received from your encounters with Sylar and from the people at Kirby Plaza. You are quite the man, Mr. Petrelli."

"What is this thing?" Peter asked. In his mind, Martin could see the subject holding up the rather heavy bracelet and smiled. Few would know its secrets, and he doubted if they shared that information with Adam.

"It's a security device, Mr. Petrelli," Munroe said. "It allows us to examine you without fear. It keeps all of you abilities at bay, holding them in, if need be. It was designed from study of another talented individual named Jonathan. Should you somehow get past the power negation, needles will inject you with very potent serum that will destroy all of your known abilities, except for the one you were born with."

Damn it! Is there nothing Martin can keep from Adam, or is all for his taking? He threw the headphones onto the desk, called Julie back in, and stormed out of the hallway, missing the rest of interrogation. Julie, whose job it was to listen in, put the headphones on and started taking notes.

"Mr. Petrelli," Adam said, "Do you know a Hiro Nakamura?" The response must have been less then required for Adam's attention, because he exited the room after that.

Eyeing Julie and her headphones, she responded with a smile. "It's all checks and balances, Mr. Munroe. I have to make a report to a higher authority than you."

_**Smokey**_

_**Club Mutant**_

He couldn't believe it: Claire Bennet, out in the real world, waiting in line to get into a club for people like them. It was weird seeing her beyond the boundaries set up by his job. He felt his heart thump a little faster than usual before he regained his composure.

Smokey stood off to the side, watching her wait. She was intrinsically lovely; he had to admit it, even if it was only to himself. As she made it to the front of the line, he watched the bouncer refuse to admit her. The bouncer was a massive man named Bruce who had his own little gift, though he'd never admit what it was to anyone.

Moving up the line to the front, Smokey made a decision, one that would probably get him fired by Noah. "Hey, Bruce! She's with me!" Both the bounce and Claire looked to see who was making such a claim.

The bouncer frowned. "Smokey, it's good to see you back, but she's a minor. I can't let her in."

"I'll take responsibility for it, okay?" Smokey said, hooking his arm around Claire's and trying to ignore the look of joy on her face. "It's her first time interacting with this many talented people, and really like it not to end like this." He pulled her away from Bruce and into the dark, smoke filled club Mutant.


	4. Kaleidoscope Eyes

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Club Mutant, New York**_

While Claire sipped at a Diet Coke at the bar, she watched the shifting mass of other talented people. She'd never seen so many in one place, didn't realize that so many existed. How could a small group that included only her grow to such a number? She'd never allow so many strange people in, that's for sure.

Smokey had disappeared moments after letting her in, leaving her in the hands of the bartender Rose, who claimed to be able to grow a tree from seed to adulthood within half an hour. Rose regaled her for hours about tales of the clubs growth in four months. It wasn't until midnight that Claire began to grow restless of watching the others dance and listening to tales from Rose.

As she stood to leave, a band went onto the small stage at the front of the club. The guy at the mike looked more than a little anorexic, and the bass player looked strung out on some kind of drug. It was the guitarist that drew her attention. There was no mistaking the faded white hair, even in the dark atmosphere of the club.

The band started up, with covers of hard rock bands. She looked on in wonder and amazement at the music Smokey played. She was amazed that the noise that disturbed her so a few nights before had turned into this.

When the set ended, the band all left the stage into the crowd. In moments, Smokey was seated next to Claire, ordering himself a drink. He threw back his shot, and then looked at her with a massive grin on his face. "You seem shocked."

"It's not what I expected," Claire said, blushing.

He laughed. "With this ink, there's no way I could have been a cop. So, what did you expect?" She shrugged, and he downed another shot. "You do realize that I have to get you home by one."

Claire gave him a smug grin. "Why is that?"

"Well, first, I don't want you to turn into a pumpkin," he said, semi-seriously. "Second, you are underage, and if a cop does show up, it'll mean the club has to shut down for an investigation. And then there're your fathers. I've heard about them, and I don't want on their bad side."

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Agency HQ, New York**_

"So, what are we going to do about this?" Noah asked, sitting across from him.

Nathan honestly couldn't understand the problem. The press knew nothing of the situation, and neither did the public. For all they knew, it could have been apart of a sting operation, and here they were, heckling the only people who stood between them and a psychotic, super-powered killer with a brain fetish. "Tell the truth. We support Matthew Parkman one hundred percent, especially since there were no fatalities in the incident."

"Except the girl's father," Noah said.

The flying man frowned. The more this working relationship went on, the more he disliked Noah. First, there was the discouragement about Peter, and now, the man was constantly pointing out the bad stuff that continued to happen. He'd already given Noah free reign to handle the policing of Evolutionarily Advanced people, but he still had to bug Nathan as if the world was on his shoulders.

"Noah," Nathan said slow so as not to enrage himself, "this is a very sensitive subject. If you have a better idea of how to handle it, then by all means, do it. However, in this case, we had the location of where Sylar would strike, not the person. We didn't identify that until after the attack had begun. There was nothing Matt could have done to prevent the death of Theodore Gillespie, although I'm sure he would have done whatever necessary to save him. That's just who Matt is, and I will stick with him until he shows otherwise."

Noah nodded. "Good. I just wanted to make sure that was how you felt. By the way, there still has been no sign of Hire Nakamura. I know you've wanted updates on him, but the Japanese administrator has found nothing to indicate that he's there."

"That's where Molly says he is, and I believe her," Nathan said. "After all, she's pinpointed Sylar for us three out of four times, and the last time, he was just gone."

"Is that what finally proved that Peter was dead?"

Nathan slammed his fist into desk. "Shut up!" he screamed, then regained his composure. "You do not know Peter, and until you do, I don't want to hear about him from you. Got that?" The other nodded, solemnly, hiding his own anger. "I haven't given up on Peter. He'll turn up, or he won't, but I will never give up on him again. I have just decided to make the search more personal, away from business."

What he'd said was, in essence, the truth. Since telling Claire, Nathan spent his free time flying around the globe in search of any sign of his brother. He suspected the Company had something to do with, but neglected to say something, knowing that at the time, Noah didn't work for them anymore. There was no information to be had from him.

"I'll go write up the press statement regarding Agent Parkman," Noah said, leaving Nathan once again to his thoughts.

It was strange knowing that you were working above men who have more knowledge than you in a subject as intimately as what he was. He liked to believe that he was selected for this job for more than just a face to gifted people, him being one himself. He had so much to offer, but everything he could give; Noah or Mohinder was an expert at it. He often wondered if this is what it felt like to be a lab rat. The scientists looking down at you in the maze, knowing every twist and turn, and letting you wander blind, looking for your bit of cheese.

Nathan pulled his phone out of his pocket. Thinking of Pete again got him wondering about Claire. Noah had said she was frazzled, but okay, But Nathan felt that his colleague's methods were a little less than ethical. Besides, he really wanted to hear from her. Once again, he was directed to voice mail. "Damn it, Claire. I really want to talk to you about this. Please, call me back." He said, before hanging up.

When it rains, it pours, and when it pours, it floods, and those who can't swim, drown. Nathan Petrelli was not going to drown, not if he could help it. He had to reach out to Claire, had to save this fledgling relationship with whatever gesture would work, just to get him talking to her again. There was only one answer; he had to tell Heidi.

_**Noel Gillespie**_

_**Hart Center, Los Angles, California**_

She sat in the holding cell with no real reason why. She could always just walk out, anytime she wanted. Perhaps it was the thought that Sylar couldn't reach her here. It was a safe place. She was still numb from shock, watching that monster kill her father. Some things didn't just get better.

It was the reason why she didn't see the doors open on her cell, or feel the hand grab her arm. The officer led her down a long corridor to a waiting room of sorts. Inside was a massive man, gruff, with a thick nest of brown hair encircling his head. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a big hug. If felt even safer than the cell had been, and she finally let herself cry. He patted her head.

"Everything is going to be alright," he said softly. "Everything will be fine in time. You'll see."

That was Uncle Oren for you, with his everything in its place mentality. She knew about her Uncle's gift. It was the reason why her dad moved them away from Las Vegas to Sacramento. He didn't want Noel to catch the mutation in the genes. People said it was contagious. She guessed they either didn't move fast enough or she got it from someone else or maybe, just maybe, that Indian doctor was right. It was genetic.

Perhaps, if her father was gifted, he wouldn't be dead now. In fact, she'd like to see Sylar storm up to Oren and try his little tricks against him.

Oren was perhaps the strongest person Noel knew, even beating out the guy who through the car. She'd seen it. He lifted it up, and threw it one handed. Oren, though, couldn't be hurt. His skin turned a dark brown, with jagged edges, rough as a mountain. Once, she'd seen a man try to stab Oren with a knife, and the change came over him, and the knife bent, cutting the man. Oren was a rock, literally.

_**Samael**_

_**New York, New York**_

He hated the sight of the freaks that walked in front of him. He put his hand inside his jacket, rubbing the butt of the pistol. Soon, he would show them that fear didn't come from the magic tricks of some sociopath. It came from the angels. He was an angel, perhaps of death, but he liked vengeance better.

Yeah, an agent of a vengeful God, sent to wipe out the menace from these sick people who corrupted others with thoughts of rising above such a god. Who did they think they were?

He stood across from the club, watching them file out. It was closing time, and he would finally reveal the wrath of God. He eyed them each with contempt. One of them short and fat painted like a scarlet woman. Another was a young blonde woman with the arm of white haired man wrapped around her. The last to exit the building was a tall man, with a number of piercings on his face.

Samael shuddered, imagining where else the crazed demon had metal studs protruding. Petting the gun, he followed the studded youth down the street, hoping to find a good spot to do the work of god. Finally, the youth stumbled into an alley to relieve himself of the poisonous alcohol he'd consumed in his night of debauchery. Samael followed him in, pulling the silenced pistol in his hands. Setting sights at the boys head, he spoke. "You fowl demon of Hell, I say to you in the name of the Lord Jesus, get off our plane!" He pulled the trigger before the youth could use his demonic powers.

The studded youth fell dead on the pavement. Samael felt a rush of blood. His first kill had been easy. He knew it wouldn't be easy for long. One time, he would run into a demon with great abilities that would challenge him, but, with God on his side, Samael was sure he wouldn't suffer greatly.

Using the dead youth's blood, he painted a message to others on the brick wall.

_"I am Samael, Angel of Death, Weapon of God.. To all the demons that walk this earth, I give you warning. I will find you and dispatch you to the great undying Hell from which you were spawned."_

He left the alley, leaving the scene undisturbed, and waited for his divine message to reach the demonic masses.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**New York, New York**_

It was way past one when Smokey finally stood from his bar seat, a more than a bit wobbly from his drinking. Claire giggled, and let him put an arm around her for support and helped him out the door. Their apartment building was only a few blocks away, so they skipped a cab and walked.

"I," Smokey hiccupped. "I probably drank too much."

"You think?" Claire asked. "You know, for such a skinny guy, you sure do weigh a lot."

Despite his being wasted, he seemed to be a little anxious about the three guys behind them. He urged her to walk faster. He sobered up quick, making her believe it was just an act. "Come on," he whispered. "I don't like the look of those guys." He started to pull her towards the building, now in sight, but she wanted to enjoy the night air.

The bat came out nowhere, striking her in the back of the head. It came with a hard, jagged voice greeting her. "Mutie bitch!" She went down hard, blacking out.

When she came back, she heard the bickering men. "Oh, man! I think you hit too hard, Kale! Look at all the blood!"  
"Steve get a hold of yourself, and hold this guy tighter! Who knows what he can do?"

"Shut up, both of you!" the first guy yelled. She let her eyes open just a bit and saw a tall man standing over her, a baseball bat hung loosely in his hand. "She's fine. She's still breathing. I'll fix that." He lifted the bat and slammed it into her back, eliciting a scream from both Claire and Steve.

"See, Steve," Kale said. "You just got to trust Logan in these things. She's fine. The mutie's can take it."

"You realize that all of you are in serious trouble," she heard Smokey tell them. She struggled to turn so that the Smokey and the two guys that held him were in view.

"Why don't you just shut your mouth like a good little boy," Logan said. "We'll get to you in a second." He slammed the bat into her back again, this time bringing blood to her lips in a gushing cough.

"You're killing her, Logan!" Steve said, in a sharp falsetto voice. "That wasn't part of the plan. We were just going to scare them, remember?"

Watching through a haze, Claire witnessed what happened next. Without her knowledge of talented people, she would have swore she was going nuts. Both of Smokey's arms became transparent, swirling about like smoke. He jerked his elbows back, which became solid, into the guts of the people holding him. They both fell to the ground. Logan stepped up and took a home run swing, which went through his smoke changed midsection and wrapped around the assailant. Smokey kicked one foot back into the chest of Steve and leapt into Logan, still recovering from his swing.

Now running, he lifted Claire to her feet and dragged her the remaining distance to their apartment building. He didn't let them slow down until they reached her front door.

Taking a moment to breath, she put a hand to the back of her head and pulled it back, sticky with blood. "Damn it," she said, more to herself than to Smokey. "They went and ruined a perfectly good day."

Smokey pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from her lower lip. Where it had split on the pavement, it had already healed, as with her head and all the internal damage from the repeated blows to the repeated blows to the back. Looking at her with intense sincerity, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she said, wiping the blood off on her jeans. "Healing is what I do."

"Well, make sure you look your door. They saw us run in here, and I wouldn't put it past them to try and find us again. Try and keep a low profile for the next few days. They might decide we just came in here to call the police."

"Aren't we?" Claire asked.

Smokey shook his head. "I didn't get a good look at them. Did you?" She shook her head. "Then there isn't much they can do besides take a report, and since there aren't any injuries to speak of, I don't really feel like arguing with them to get them to believe us, do you?"

Claire sighed. "You're right." Life was so much more complicated than it used to be. He looked at her earnestly for a few moments, before smiling. Feeling self conscious, she wiped her chin, thinking there might be more blood there. "What?"

"You have really pretty eyes," he said, before going to his own apartment, one door down.

She smiled, then went into Peter's apartment. She locked the door, pulling on it to make sure it would hold, and then went to bathroom. She showered, keeping her bloody clothes away from the rest of her laundry. When she got out, she pulled on a pair of Peter's scrubs, and crawled into the bed, trying to block out the attack, and only remember the good parts of the night.


	5. Hunters

_**Legion**_

_**Philadelphia, Pennsylvania**_

Legion stepped up to the apartment door, still suffering indigestion from his quick travel from Bucharest. Wyrm's methods of transportation did a number on the system. He could only imagine what happen to the target Wyrm had been given by the boss.

Inside Legion, he felt the presence of the last two people he merged with, which was odd, because he only merged with Nikki. The other presence identified itself as Jessica, and both of them gave him a surge of physical power. He would quickly dispatch this side-target and return to his search for the elusive Robert Bishop. What the Boss wanted with the man was beyond Legion, but he didn't ask questions like that insufferable killer, Sylar, did.

He knocked twice, letting them echo into the man inside, and then he kicked the door in when he felt the prickles in his head. Using the telekinesis he gained years ago, he shoved and held the fat man against the wall. "Your tricks are useless, Maury," he said, coldly.

Maury Parkman clung to the wall, with enough pressure to nearly stop his breathing. Legion smiled at him, feeling the prickling sensation that meant Maury was trying to pull him into a dream. With one quick motion, he reached out and snapped one of Maury's fingers. The fat man howled in pain.

"You can't focus in pain, can you?" Legion said, chuckling. "I'll have to remember that." He moved fast, placing his hand over Maury's mouth. The Maury's eyes went wide with fear, as he begins to meld with Legion.

As the merging continues, Legion gets glimpses into the mind of the man; the day he left his son and wife, the day he tried to leave the company with Adam at the helm, the little girl he sees with his power. It was the little girl that intrigued him the most. Legion grinned, exerting his power to speed up the process. He wanted to know what the girl could do, and why Maury was frightened of her.

The clunk of Maury's shoes hitting the ground signified the end of the merge. The late Maury Parkman had suffered from the extra exertion of the process. Legion had absorbed everything. His eyes shifted colors, going from blue to hazel to green to black, even once flickering red. He shut them to try and slow the spinning of the room. He'd pushed himself too far this time, and he wasn't sure he could withstand the sudden appearance of Maury in his blood stream.

Legion collapsed, pulling himself blindly into the corner. From outside the apartment, he heard a flood of thoughts, but none of them made sense. He struggled to hang on to himself. Maury personality was a thick waste of mankind seeping into Legion's brain. He convulsed uncontrollably.

The Merger fell silent and motionless, barely breathing. He'd grasped the reins of Maury's runaway thoughts and powers. His eyes shot open, and he grinned once more. "Molly," he said, licking his lips.

He stood, leaving the apartment wide open. In the remains of Maury's clothes, he dropped a card, intentionally. Let Matt choke on the knowledge that he can never confront his father, the man who instilled Matt with his fears of being less than a good man. Legion had originally planned on leaving the scene with more evidence that Maury had struggled and died horribly, but he had other things to attend to know. Even Robert Bishop could wait. All that mattered know was Molly Walker, the girl who can find people, the adopted daughter of the boss's enemy.

_**Wyrm**_

_**New York, New York**_

He watched them from a safe distance, the tall, handsome black man letting the young blonde girl take his son. Soon, there would be little chance of discovery. He could trap the Phasing fireman in between two places, and carry him to the boss. As the fireman stepped back into his apartment building, Wyrm leapt from his perch and fell five stories before the world rippled around him. He found himself in the fireman's bathtub, with only seconds to activate his trap.

He moved slowly, wary of any counter-traps the fireman might have set, and went to the front door. From his pocket, he pulled out a piece of chalk and drew a large rectangle leading out from the base of the door. That done, Wyrm returned the chalk to his pocket and place his palm face down in his drawing, forcing all of his energy to go halfway to Nome, Alaska. The floor shimmered, and Wyrm hid behind the couch.

While he waited, he stared at a picture on the wall. In it was the fireman, the boy, and the woman Legion merged with. Everything in his belly curdled at once. He couldn't take the last thing this boy had.

When the door opened, Wyrm shot up, feeling both nauseas and heroic. "Stop!" he tried to scream, but he was too late. The fireman had fallen in, and if Wyrm released him, who knew what the fireman would do to him. The only path was that of the original plan. He had to turn the Phaser over to Prometheus.

The PDA that the boss had given him beeped, telling him he had another assignment. He pulled it out, and read the text message that went with a picture. _Get a sample of the blood of the subject and then return with the fireman and the blood to base. _Wyrm opened the picture, at once relieved that he wouldn't have to trap another person. The fireman, Wyrm had been told, was going to be given to Sylar so that he can get the phasing ability he lost in California.

Wyrm's heart nearly stopped when he saw the picture. This wasn't going to be the best few days. He'd read the news, and when he read the name of the person whose blood he was supposed to get, he knew why he'd been given the job. The person was under the protection of the Agency, and nobody else could get past them as easily as he could. Still, he'd seen the girl. The boy had gone with her, right before he'd trapped the fireman.

The name was Claire Bennet.

_**Jon Baker**_

_**Location Unknown**_

The small room that he'd been stashed in since last year had the definite air of him. Jon loved the sight of his room; it was the only place that felt like home. His father led him back down the hall and to his room. He enjoyed the smile he got from the nurse Julie. Sometimes, when Dad wasn't around, Julie would let him out to play video games. It was one of these times that he found out what was going on.

The room was littered with comic books, from Superman to Spider-Man, and Jon believed that Superman resided in the room across from his, imprisoned from some reason. Perhaps it was because only Superman could stop what they were planning. It made sense to Jon.

So, when his door was locked for the night, he whispered through the vents that he'd discovered would allow him to speak to others in the cells around his. "Superman, I know it's you. Tonight, we fly again."

Superman, who called himself Peter, answered back with, "What are you talking about?"

Three days of faking his illness so they wouldn't give him the pills and remove the negation bracelet had finally paid off. All day, Jon had been absorbing small amounts of electricity, and some energy from Julie that she spends to use her ability. Now, he activated the discharge sequence in himself. Sparks ignited the air around him, and he blew the door out into the hall.

Julie came running to see what was going on, and he sent an arc of pure energy into her chest, not lethal, just enough to knock her out. Setting his hands on the door that held 'Peter', he released more energy. A little too much this time, because the door flew in and knocked out Superman.

He lifted the man who called himself Peter, and started to discharge energy down at the ground. With in seconds, he found himself discharging at the roof so he could fly out.

In minutes, he and Peter were out of the facility, flying high over the snow covered tundra. Turning east, he carried Peter somewhere safe. As they flew, Jon kept up his energy reserve by taking solar energy.

_**Sylar**_

_**Death Valley, California**_

He knew his part in all this. To make up for losing one of the gifts Prometheus demanded of him, he had to make a phone call. He waited for the other person to answer.

Finally, someone did. "Agent Parkman, talk."

Sylar grinned. "Matt, you and I have made some spectacular scenes recently. Perhaps you would like to know the aim of all of it. Well, I'm throwing you a bone. Find you father and all will fall into place."

"Who is this?" Matt asked before Sylar hung up. He hated the sound of the Agent's voice, especially since Matt made him re-grow a n ear, not easy even when you have spontaneous regeneration.

Unlike the rest of the other people in Project Prometheus, he didn't have a true assignment. Just to tell Matt to find his father. Sylar hated being the goat this project made him, but they made him strong. Soon, oh so soon, he would break free and kill Legion and Wyrm and everyone else the Project employed and has trapped up in their little artic base.

He smiled, before taking flight to Nome.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

Peter found himself on a couch of extraordinary comfort. He'd been bathed and dressed in new clothes. The only reminder that the facility wasn't a dream was the damned bracelet. Even though he hated it, he needed the damn thing to stay safe. Now, if only he could get to New York.

A woman entered the room, carrying a plate of food. "I didn't know what you could eat, so I kept it simple. Eggs and dry toast. If you can handle more, there's also bacon."

"Who are you?"

She smiled, setting the plate on the coffee table. "No one as glamorous as Superman, I assure you. My name is Katherine Walsh, but you can call me Kate."

"Where's the guy who broke me out?"

"He went off to find someone," she said, taking a seat next to him. "You kept saying Claire, over and over again, along with a few other things. So, off he flew, hoping to make you remember being Superman."

She went back into the kitchen when a kettle whistled. Peter sat back, trying to think about what happened whenever it did. He remembered little, but he knew the guy who saved him was named Jon, and that the nurse brought him comics daily. He was probably a little delusional, and he was young.

He tried to shut his eyes, but all he saw was Claire, or Nathan, or any of the other faces at Kirby Plaza before he exploded. He wondered how Claire was, and if Nathan lived.

A loud beep from the bracelet drew his attention, then he felt several needles jab into his wrist. Intense pain wracked his body, and he passed out.


	6. Visionary

_**Sylar**_

_**Truth or Consequences, New Mexico**_

He stayed hidden in his trailer. Things were changing, and the game was becoming harder. The last message from Prometheus was that the finals had arrived, and only two people remained in the program; Sylar and Legion. The finals ended with the capture of Peter Petrelli and Jon Baker. Something didn't feel right.

Thinking back on the abilities he'd gathered over the years, he decided there was only one way to go about it.

The easel was set up, his paints spread out, and Sylar was ready. As he brought to surface the trance that signaled his time to paint, the ticking of the eternal clock grew so loud, it nearly shattered his eardrums.

When he came to, the sun was setting, again. Before him were several paintings of Legion in war with Peter Petrelli. He hunted through his work, finding several more smaller paintings of dead people, until he found the one he was looking for.

In this last painting, Sylar was engaged in his own fight with Legion. Legion was in the process of merging with the Sylar.

The killer shuddered. It was time to abandon the Prometheus Project. There were few people who could help him get free and live through it. His mind went first to Matt Parkman. Surely, the Agent could help him.

Sylar shook his head. Thanks to his phone call, he could never get Parkman on his side. But, he could use the agent as a tool to stop Legion and Prometheus. The eternal clock clicked this way and that, filling in the gaps of his plan.

There was only one person who could help.

Peter Petrelli.

_**Kit Frost**_

_**New York, New York**_

Frost and Ashe stepped into the alley, where he believed Mr. Bennet would be there to brief him. Instead, he found the Doctor, Stanley Crane. "Hello, Ashe, Kit," the doctor said, a little pale in the face.

"Doctor," Ashe said, and Frost just nodded.

"I'm sure you're wondering what you next assignment is. Well, here it is," Crane said, leading them into the alley to a covered corpse. Frost eyed the words written in blood on the wall. "He was found about two hours ago, after the second victim was found up in Maine. A couple of EA, spending the night watching the sunset, each killed execution style, with a note."

He handed the note to Ashe, who glanced at it, and then gave to Frost. It was perhaps the weirdest thing he'd ever read to date. _I will destroy the demons, plaguing this earth. I will be the hand of God in purging this world. Samael._

"Cuckoo," Frost said, bringing only the slightest of grins to Ashe's face.

Crane nodded. "Be that as it may, it's your job to catch this guy."

Ashe looked over at him, with a slight frown. "Can't you do anything here?"

"What do you mean?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "They had to team with the moron. I mean with your ability. It said you had some kind of mental ability."

"Yeah, I do. But, it's just precognition. I can't look back in time and tell you what this guy looks like. I can just tell you when we're walking into a trap."

Ashe frowned deeper. He liked it better when she smiled. "Just try."

"Fine," he said, not wanting to upset her further.

Frost gazed over the crime scene, struggling to piece together what happened. His brow furrowed, and something in him clicked. Everything went in reverse. He saw himself walk away, join up with Ashe, and both of them walked backwards out of the alley.

Frost didn't move, afraid of what would happen if he did. He saw the medics uncover the body, and do the preliminary search of the scene, and then they, too, backed out of the alley. Soon, the whole world became a blur.

Then it stopped. Night had fallen again, and the victim was standing up, urinating on the wall. Frost thought he was going to vomit; he was so light-headed.

A man in a black hood walked up behind him, pulled a gun, and pointed it at Frost's face. "Whoa, man, what the hell?" he asked.

You fowl demon of Hell, I say to you in the name of the Lord Jesus, get off our plane!" the gunman shouted, getting the attention of the victim, and pulled the trigger. Frost nearly screamed as he watched the bullet fly at his head, slowing as it approached. It stopped an inch from his nose.

Frost stuck his hand out to grab the bullet and fought the urge to laugh hysterically as his fingers passed right through it. He felt like the world was a tape, and he was the VCR. Or DVD player, if you prefer.

He stepped around the stopped bullet, as if afraid of it would start again, and walked up to the gunman. _Damn it, Ashe, _he thought. _I guess you will get that description after all._

Frost tried hard to memorize the features of the gunman. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a scar on his chin, and two small marks on his neck; he was dressed in jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt, hood up covering his face. He focused again, this time on the present time, and watched as the world rocketed forward until he was back.

He lurched to his knees, and dry-heaved on the side of a nearby dumpster. He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder, expecting to see the calm face of Dr. Crane. Instead, he saw the worrying eyes of his partner, Ashe Tisdale. For the first time, he saw true emotion in her eyes. "Are you alright?"

He couldn't resist. "You have your description, little lady." He tried to smile for her, just to let her know he was fine, but shaken.

What he got in return was not just beyond his expectations, but far beyond anything he ever could have expected. She grinned madly, threw her arms around him, and squeezed. Then, with a little bit of sarcasm, she whispered in his ear. "I told you so."

_**Wyrm**_

_**Peter's Apartment, New York**_

He watched her move about the apartment with the boy, hidden in the bathroom and ready to pop out somewhere else in case one of them came in. Listening intently, Wyrm listened to her talk about his exploits with the boy's phasing father, now trapped in between here and Nome, Alaska.

In his pocket, he pulled the syringe he'd stolen for this very occasion. Wyrm didn't know what they wanted with the girl's blood, but he wouldn't disappoint. He couldn't. He owed them too much after they got him out of that facility in Bucharest, where many more where now more than likely being tested on.

He shook the thoughts from his head, and decided now was his chance. He lunged out, jabbing the needle into Claire's neck as she walked by the bathroom on her way to the kitchen. She screamed, and threw herself back into the wall, smashing Wyrm against it. She tossed an elbow into his ribs, and let him fall to the ground, winded.

Using what little focus he had without oxygen, he opened a portal on her floor, and slipped through it, into her room.

Claire and her ward's voices echoed through the both the portal and the bedroom door, carrying the confusion as to where Wyrm had gone. He lay back on her bed and listened, catching his breath. He'd have to move faster next time.

That's when he noticed the syringe was gone, probably still sticking out of the girl's neck. Wyrm began to hyperventilate, which grew even worse when he heard the front door open and a man's voice speak, asking what had happened.

It was the boy who answered, telling the newcomer that Claire had been attacked and that he disappeared through the floor.  
The first time Wyrm felt afraid was when the newcomer announced that the syringe was sticking out the girl's neck. Wyrm opened a portal, ran through it into the living room, snatching the syringe, ported back to the bedroom, and then charged out, syringe held high.

He tripped over the boys backpack, and the needle jammed itself into the girl's arm. Before he could get his sample, the newcomer slammed something into the back of his head, and Wyrm lost consciences.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

He blinked and eyed the paintings. It was one of the gifts that he retained, apparently. So far, that made two, painting the future and invisibility. Peter smiled. They left damn near useless.

Ever since Kate removed the bracelet, Peter had tried every one of his abilities, at least the ones he thought safe to try. The radioactivity was too dangerous, and he didn't want to cut himself to see if he would heal. Those two were more well-known, anyway, and they probably did away with them.

The paintings were not something to be happy about. Four deaths, at least one of them he recognized. One of the paintings showed his mother, in a hospital bed, with severe burns across her face. The other three looked vaguely familiar.

Another one he'd done during the night was that of a storm. He assumed it was one, even though it appeared to span the globe. Tornado's in Paris, a tidal wave wiping out New York City, massive lightning storms over the Pyramids.

The next set involved a series of battles, some of which were even more bizarre. Hiro and a woman against two other combatants fighting in Kirby Plaza with swords. A Japanese man who had a gaping slash though his right eye, and two fingers missing off his left hand.

In the battles, he also saw himself fighting against two people in a massive plain. They were surrounded by people, many of them with guns. One of the people he depicted himself fighting he recognized, and it made his blood run cold. Sylar.

Outside the window, the sun was coming up, and Kate opened his door. "I'm heading off to work," She said, smiling sweetly. "Remember, none of my neighbors know about you, so stay hidden, okay?"

Peter nodded, eager to be rid of her so he can resume his search for remaining abilities. It seemed he had a war to fight, and wanted to be ready for it.

_**Nikki Sanders**_

_**Location Unknown**_

The world was completely black. There were others here, she could tell, each with their own story, but none of which she could make out. The weirdest of all, when she tried to talk, she was answered by her own her voice, not like an echo.

She struggled to remember what happened, something to hint as to what happened. The last thing she remembered was talking with DL and Micah in the hospital. She was going on a trip to get rid of Jessica, with a man who called himself Bob.

_Bucharest, Romania._

The thought came unbidden to her mind. Yes, that was where she went. Bob set her up in a dinky little place, and fed her pills by the bucket load. They helped her keep Jessica from coming out, but also kept her from wanting to do anything. Her days went by in a fog.

_The man and his child._

Okay, that one made no sense at all. There was no man and his child, unless of course she was thinking of DL and Micah.

_His child…_

An image followed this one, that of a young man with dark black hair and eyes. He refused to look at her, seemed almost regretful to be there.

Nikki shook her head, trying to dispose of the thoughts, but a voice spoke up in the darkness. "No, you need to remember," her voice said. "Otherwise you're lost. And I won't let you give up. Micah needs you. Be strong, and remember."

"Who are you?" Nikki asked.

"Just be ready, and keep remembering!" The voice faded.

_The man…_

Ah, yes. The image that came this time made everything clear, or slightly clearer than mud. The tall man, long black hair, black eyes, gloved hands, ungloved, touch, the absence of…

Nikki screamed. Something bad happened when that man touched her. Something, but she couldn't tell what, couldn't remember. The voice, Jessica's voice, spoke up in the void. "It is bad, Nikki, but I can feel our way out. Just trust me on this, okay?"

Did she have a choice? Not one that she could see.

In the void, an echo, a real one this time, came to her ears. _We are Legion, we are many._

Then, the pull started, and Nikki listened in horror as Jessica screamed in pain.

_**Jon Baker**_

_**New York, New York**_

The pull towards the man was compulsory. In his search for Claire Bennet, he'd come to New York and found this man. He was tall, dressed sharply for a business meeting of some sort, and seemed to avoid his gaze. Now, there was a voice in his head, calling out for help, emanating from this man.

Something reached out and tapped into his absorption power, and the man stopped in his tracks, hunching over in pain. The voice in Jon's head screamed to be let out and tugged at his ability like a fish on the hook. He released the full power of his gift on the man, absorbing the woman's voice that so clearly needs to be let out.

_**Nikki Sanders**_

_**Location Unknown**_

"Quick, take my hand!" Jessica cried out, gripping what felt more like Nikki's throat, although she knew it was probably a little higher up she grabbed. The tug was incessant, and only increased as she tried to fight it. She shut her eyes against the flood, letting Jessica win. It was only one more time that she'd have to wake up and wonder what Jessica had done now, in Nikki's name.

It was cold, and loud. She opened her eyes and viewed the New York skyline, falling below her. Two arms held her aloft, and she felt shamed when she looked up and saw the ever innocent face of man looking at her. She was naked, hundreds of feet above the earth, in the arms of a flying man.

The man who pulled her out of the void was simple, not unintelligent, just simple and innocent; she could see that in his brown muddy eyes. Sandy hair poured down over his face, and the start of dimples were forming at the corners of his lips. Sparks lit up the air around him.

"Uh, hello," she said, before he dived into the noise of New York. She shut her eyes on the ride, fearing that she'd be seen, or worse, that he was going to take her higher and then drop her from the clouds.

Once again, when she opened her eyes, she was not where she thought she'd be. Kirby Plaza, the same place that she witnessed that guy explode while clinging to her husband and child.

The flying man set her down, wrapped his coat around her, and then took off into the sky, leaving her to wonder, just what happened.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

* * *

_(A/N: Sorry it took so long to update, I had a hard time deciding on how to do the painting scenes. I'm also trying to get everything ready so that when I sit at the computer, I have all the key points planned out. I seem to have too many characters than needed, and I'm trying to sort out who I need, and who is "expendable". I appreciate all of the comments left, even if I don't always respond to them. And since I'm already in an authors note, I might as well go ahead and tell you what's going on with Hiro. Basically, his adventure in time is the same as his Story with Kensei on the show I haven't forgotten him; he shows up later down the line._

_Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far, Traumedy101)_


	7. Better Lives

_**Micah Sanders**_

_**Hart Center, New York**_

He sat at the small table in the interrogation room, waiting to see what it was they needed to talk to him about. It could be a range of anything, although he suspected it was about his dad. DL had disappeared two days ago. Yesterday, Claire was attacked by a strange powered man. _Coincidence? _He asked himself. _I think not._

Outside the small room, he watched Agent Parkman sip his coffee and talk with a tall black man, another agent Micah didn't recognize. Time ticked slowly by, and Micah started noticing just how bad the room smelled of sweat and fear. Did he do something wrong? Was he a suspect in his father's disappearance?

The door creaked open and an elderly looking man in a white coat entered. "Hello, Micah. I'm Doctor Crane," he said. Micah nodded. "If you would come with me, will get this whole thing put behind us."

Micah did as he was asked, following the doctor down the hall past a smiling Matt. As they passed the agents, the black man gave Micah two thumbs up.

The doctor led him to another room, this one much larger than the one they put him in for holding. Then, Dr. Crane exited a door in the back. There was a small commotion, then the door opened again. The person who came out was the last person Micah expected.

"Mom!" he shouted, running into the open arms of Nikki. She snatched her son in mid-jump and held him close. "I'm so glad you're back!"

"Me, too, Micah," she said, clutching the boy like he was the only thing holding her to the ground. She sniffled. "They told me about Dad. They're going to find him. I know it, Micah. I just know it."

"What about Jessica?" he whispered in her ear, and she nodded.

"She's gone," Nikki said. "Gone for good."

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Hart Center, New York**_

"A little dorky, Ridge," Matt said to his partner. "Nobody does thumbs up anymore."

"Well, what can I say? I'm just glad we have some sort of victory under our belt." Ridge started down the hall. "Come on, we got that weird guy to question."

Matt followed. "We're getting closer to Sylar, I can feel it. And then there's that new guy, Frost. I think he's going to make a hell of splash in the agency." As they walked, Matt prepared himself for what he did best; interrogation. Nobody else did it like he could, and if he needed to, he felt like he could rip the thoughts from this guys head. "He calls himself Wyrm. We've yet to find out who he really is, but I plan on getting that information from him, as well as why he attacked Claire Bennet."

"So," Ridge said, "Noah kind of removed the leash from you, then?"

Matt shook his head. "This came all the way down from Petrelli. He said, and I quote, rip this guy three new holes to crap out of. The director really has a way with words, don't you think?"

"A regular poet, he is."

The two of them entered another interrogation room, this one even heavier with the stench of fear. Chained to the table was the man who attacked Claire. He was average height, with a nest of black hair and two beady little eyes that never quite made contact with anyone's face. A pink tongue occasionally peeked out, wetting his thin little lips.

Ridge took a seat across from Wyrm, glaring into the side of his face. Matt forced a mental link, peering deep inside the mind of the man. "Why did you attack Claire Bennet?" Ridge asked.

Wyrm shook his head and shrugged, but Matt saw the images in his head. A phone, with her Claire's picture, blood. The word Prometheus floated around in there like a fish in a tiny bowl. "Who do you work for?" Matt asked.

Several words popped up rapidly. _Legion, Company, Prometheus Project, The Angel. _Of them, the Company made no sense, as they were absorbed by the Agency just three months ago; Noah Bennet saw to it.

"What is the Prometheus Project?" This time, he was answered in images. Sylar, Peter Petrelli, and two other men he'd never seen before. "What does Peter Petrelli have to do with this?" Matt regretted asking this, because the conversation was being recorded, and a red flag was going up somewhere in the country. If he didn't do this fast, Nathan would be in here faster than a cheetah on the Serengeti.

For the first time, Wyrm spoke in a cracked, uneven voice. "Peter Petrelli, subject Point Zero in the All Gift Program of the t Prometheus Project. Know abilities include flight, spontaneous regeneration, induced radioactivity, telepathy, telekinesis, phasing, enhanced strength, space-time manipulation, technopathy, also believed to be in possession of some sort of precognition ability. Contacts include Nathan Petrelli, Claire Bennet, Heidi Petrelli, Angela Petrelli. Signed in by Adam Monroe, witnessed by Martin Baker."

"What the hell?" Ridge asked no one in particular.

Matt stared hard, trying to keep the link, but Wyrm had shocked him into dropping it. "What is the Prometheus Project?" he asked again.

"The search for God," Wyrm answered. "Find Legion. He has your father." Wyrm set both hands on the table and shut his eyes. The table shimmered, a mirage in the desert, and Wyrm fell through it, disappearing.

The door burst open and Nathan Petrelli stormed in. "Where is he?" he demanded. When Matt shrugged, the director went back out, barking orders. "He can't have gotten far. I want the building locked down until we've performed a top to bottom search!"

In the chair Wyrm was seated in was a card with the word _Philadelphia _and an addressscrawled on it in childish handwriting. It was a hint. "Ridge, pack your bags," Matt said. "We're going to Philly."

_**Ando **__**Masahashi**_

_**Hart Center, Tokyo, Japan**_

Ando sighed as he exited the building. Four months and still no sign of his best friend, Hiro Nakamura. He had almost no one to share his rapid success, even though it was probably his relationship with Hiro that gained him his new title of assisstant director of the Japan Agency. Katio trusted him.

Since the discovery of Hiro's powers and his subsequent disappearnce, Ando wished for his own powers, hoping to gain even more trust from Kaito. Perhaps it would allow Kaito to take a vacation and search for his lost son.

As Ando walked throught the plaza, he thought of the people he now dealt with, people with abilities. His favorite of course was the beautiful Sakura Miyamoto. The two had coffee together every night, and she enjoyed hearing the tale of Hiro and Ando in America in their quest to stop the explosion. In fact, she was inspired by the story of Hiro and took up sword fighting as well, though she preferred a long sword to a katana.

Ando commended her on her choice to take up the sword, but not follow Hiro completely. That would, of course, leave her lost somewhere or, more likely in Hiro's case, some time.

He caught sight of the Director in the plaza, staring off into the night sky. Kaito seemed to be a romantic at heart, but dreadfull serious on the outside, and Hiro's quest brought out the romantic in him. Ando shouted out to him. "Director!"  
Kaito glanced over his shoulder as Ando made his way over. "Ando, you have been a true friend in these cold days." He turned back to the stars. "Tomorrow, the Agency will look to you for direction. Kimiko will take over Yamagato Industries."

"Sir, I don't understand you," Ando said, and Kaito handed him a picture. The picture was of Kaito with the symbol on Hiro's sword painted on it in what looked like blood. "What is this?"

"A challenge, so to speak," Kaito said, crypticly. "From an old friend in the Company, I imagine. A challenge I will take, if only to allow myself a chance to face the old demons."

Kaito walked off, leaving Ando to puzzle over the words from his boss.

_**Kit Frost**_

_**Bangor, Maine**_

He came back to the present with a wheeze and again nearly vomited. Ashe patted his back as he struggled to regain his balance. "The same guy," he said, coughing. Frost dropped the bullet and he barely heard it bounce on the floor

"You know, I've been thinking," Ashe said.

"Hope you didn't hurt yourself."

"If you can go back, can you go forward?" she asked.

"I'm not really in the mood to try. Every time I take one of these little trips, I lose a little of my lunch," he said, tearing up. Nevertheless, he picked up the bullet again, and tried to fast-forward the same way he rewinded. Shutting his eyes, he focused hard. When he opened them, he found himself and Ashe gone. The lab they stood in was empty, except for a custodian cleaning up. "It worked…" he said to himself.

"Great!" he heard Ashe say, some distance away. Her voice echoed like she was deep in a cave and he was at the mouth, or perhaps the otherway around.

Frost took time to wave his hand in front of the custodian's face. The man didn't blink. The agent felt a whole world opening up to him. He could see anything, if he didn't mind the dizziness. He rewound time.

When he got back, it wasn't as bad as usual. He sat down on a chair, and stared at the wall, while Ashe repacked the evidence away. "Did you hear me?" she asked, and he nodded. "Good. This means we can communicate during these little trips. I won't feel totally left out."

"Don't." Frost said. "You're the muscle after all. I'm not actually going anywhere. I can't influence anything when I'm gone. I need someone to make sure I don't step in anything."

"Ha ha," she said, making an overexagerated happy face.

He stuck his tongue out at her. Then, he snatched the bullet out her hands, and grabbed her wrist. With a quick focus, the forced the click that sent the whole thing in motion. He dragged her with him back to the crime scene. "Feel better?" he asked as they watched the couple get shot again.

She shook her head, and she looked completely nauseated.

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Philidelphia, Pennsylvannia**_

The plane landed with ease, and he once again felt the lack of his partner. At the last minute, Ridge had stayed behind to watch Molly. Mohinder had been called away on business, and Claire had troubles of her own with Wyrm gone. They'd searched that building from top to bottom, like Nathan wanted, and Matt had expanded his mind to listen in to the thoughts. Wyrm wasn't there.

Now, here he was, going to see his father for the first time since the bastard left. This could only end badly. Matt knew he was going to regret this.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Peter's Apartment, New York**_

Smokey slept on the couch, snoring softly. Claire asked him to stay, since Nathan called her with news that Wyrm was loose. She just didn't feel safe.

She stepped out onto the balconey and surveyed the skyline. Somewhere down below her, she could feel the eyes of the agents her fathers had sent to keep watch on her. It was strange to have such over protective fathers, but then again, it was weird to have two fathers.

She looked up once into the sky and saw a shooting star of the clearest blue streak across the starlit canopy. Claire shut her eyes and wished that she could have some news about Peter.

When she opened them, a man stood on the balconey with her. He was maybe a year younger than her. His hair was the color of corn silk, and two sad, pale blue eyes stared intenly at her. It was an odd feeling, but Claire felt no threat coming off of him.

"Are you Claire Bennet?" he asked.

She nodded. "Who are you?"

"I'm not important. What I've come to tell you, is. Peter Petrelli is alive."  
Claire's heart stopped for a second. She couldn't have heard the man right. Peter exploded; he was gone. What was she thinking? She'd just wished for information on Peter, and here it was, all wrapped up in a pretty little bow. "Excuse me?"

"Peter Petrelli lives," the man said again. "He's waiting for you in Toronto. I'd fly you there, but I'm afraid of what I would do to you. My power is, it's unstable. You have to get there. He's lost most of his own gifts, and it's only a matter of time before the others find him. It's all down to you."

The man leapt from the balconey, taking off in a streak of blue. Claire nearly screamed in shock as the man fell three stories before taking flight. She felt the sizzle in the air. When she turned around, she turned into the muddy gray eyes of Smokey. Without a moments hesitation, she said, "I'm going to Canada."

She expected some kind of protest, just what kind, she didn't know. Smokey nodded. "I'm going with you."


	8. Darkness Falls

_**Kaito Nakamura**_

_**Outside Tokyo, Japan**_

Kaito stepped to the edge of the forest, waiting for the man who challenged him to arrive. On his back hung his trusty katana; he didn't plan to let whoever it was get away as easy as they thought they would. Hiro taught him that.

He knew in his heart that he would not see his son return, but it was for the best. Hiro, as noble as he was, would seek out the Company to find out why they would allow the loss of major city. Answering to his son was not something Kaito every wanted to do.

Time ticked slowly by, as Kaito waited. It seemed like he stood there for an eternity.

The blonde man stepped from behind the trees, a glimmer of steel in his hands. He spoke with a faint British accent. "Kaito, it has been too long," he said.

Kaito bowed. "Let's not draw this out. Come do what you came to."

The fight was on before he finished talking. Adam came swinging. The sound of steel on steel echoed in the night air. Kaito knew how to kill his adversary, but knew it wasn't going to be easy. Adam Monroe had four hundred years to practice. Kaito only had the one lifetime.

Adam's sword slashed across Kaito's thigh, and the man fell to his knees. The sun was rising, and Adam was ready to finish it. Kaito held his head high, and Adam scoffed. "Always honorable, Kaito, right to the finish. At least admit that you chose the wrong side, and I'll spare that son of yours." He set the edge of his katana on the back of Kaito's neck, ready to make the killing blow.

Kaito stood silent as Adam's sword came swinging down on his neck.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**New York, New York**_

Smokey's car sat idle at the curb with Smokey behind the wheel as Claire finished packing her necessary items. If she was going on a trip, she didn't want to leave anything she might need. Smokey said he'd take care of the small things on the trip, that he had enough money to carry them to Toronto. Hell, she was still surprised that he agreed to this so quickly.

She left one message to her father, Noah Bennet, promising to return soon. After all, it shouldn't take more than a week. She hoped.

Grabbing up her bags, she exited the building she'd lived in for the past four months, free of the burden of having to watch Micah. She hoped that DL came back, but until then Nikki was back and the firemen DL worked with were helping out. She threw her things in the back seat and climbed into the front.

"Ready?" Smokey asked. She nodded, and they were off, on their way north, to Canada, and to Peter.

_**Wyrm**_

_**New York, New York**_

He watched the fireman's apartment, just as he did the other day, only this time, he had a delivery. Inside, the place was dark, but he knew that meant nothing. It was just as likely that they were asleep. He knew that Nikki had come back, although he had no idea how she was pulled from Legion. He was happy for the boy.

He leapt once again from the building top and into a portal that took him inside the apartment he watched. Once again he drew the chalk box on the floor, opening the portal to Nome. This time, instead of hiding and waiting, he stuck his hands into the shimmering hole in the floor and gripped the arm of the Fireman. Inch by Inch, he pulled DL out of the portal and back into his apartment.

DL was out cold, but Wyrm knew that it was only a matter of time before he woke up. It was a side effect for first-timers for his portals. It took Legion several trips to finally get used to it.

Leaving DL on the sofa, Wyrm transported himself to Albany. He didn't know if the Agency was on to him, but better safe than sorry. Besides, he knew of people who could help him disappear, people he knew when he was locked in the basement of a laboratory.

Four months ago, he found himself apart of a mass break out at the Company, led by the very man who went to slay Kaito Nakamura. Adam Monroe was a hard ass, sure, but he took care of his own kind. It was him who took Wyrm to Prometheus and got him into the Project's good graces.

But Wyrm had enough of their tactics. He was heading to the Others, in Toronto.

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Philadelphia, Pennsylvania**_

Sighing, Matt pushed open the door to what he believed was his father's apartment. The place was a wreck, the couch ripped open and the stuffing strewn everywhere. Someone had been here recently, looking for something. The apartment had been tossed.

Stepping inside, the agent was unsure of what he would find. Surely, Maury had been in something deep. Only last month, Matt found his father's name on a list from the Company. The two of them had shared near identical abilities. He must have been a boon to the Company.

He looked around briefly, but it appeared as if the place was tossed only days ago, and then abandoned. He was about to leave when he spotted a piece of paper on the fridge. He plucked it off, knowing that he just put his fingerprints in the possible crime scene of his dead-beat father's disappearance.

_Agent Parkman, if you're reading this, you probably already know that you father is gone. I'm sure he will be missed. If you must know what happened to him, seek out the one they call Legion. Ask Nikki Sanders all about him. The two have been 'intimate' recently, and she will know better than me. I'll be in touch, agent. –Sylar_

So, the note must have been left very recently, but why would Sylar want to help him? This Legion character must be something awful to have made an enemy like the killer. Matt decided to check a little more extensively.

Upon entering the bedroom, Matt felt his bowel loosen more than a little bit. Painted on the wall in either red paint or blood, Legion or Sylar had written 'MOLLY". Either way, it was not a good thought.

Matt ripped his cell phone out his pocket and dialed his home number. No answer. He tried Ridge's cell phone. Again, no answer.

Matt Parkman ran out of the apartment, dialing the Agency's help number as quick as he could.

_**Molly Walker**_

_**Matt's Apartment, New York**_

Ridge lay unconscious in the corner, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. Molly was under the bed, peeking out as the man who called himself Legion called out to her. Only a few minutes ago, Nathan Petrelli had arrived, asking Molly to once again search for Peter. This time, to every one's surprise, she found him, in Toronto. She gave Nathan the address, and off he took, out the window, like Superman.

Right after Nathan was gone, the door burst in, splintering. Legion came in, hands raised up, pushing Agent Ridge against the wall, twisting his arm around his back. Molly went under the bed in a flash. She knew this man, though she never met him. He was the Nightmare Man.

"Molly," Legion called again. "Come on out, Molly. I'm not going to hurt." She didn't need Matt's ability to know what he mentally added after that. _I'm not going to hurt you, much. _Well, she wasn't coming out.

Legion stopped at the foot of the bed, turning this way and that, looking for her.

"I'm not in the mood for your games, Molly," he said, his voice becoming less soft and more bitter and angry. "I never did like Hide-and-Seek."

The bed rose up over her, and she screamed. Molly took off for the door, hoping to make it outside. An invisible hand grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into Legion's awaiting arms.

Whispering in her ear, Legion said, "You and I have work to do and people to find. I hope you're ready for the worst time of your life." She screamed again, as Legion leapt from the window into his own invisible hands.

_(A/N: I know it's a small chapter, and I apologize, but I promise you, it's leading up to the first major confrontation in the story. So please be patient._

_Again, thank you for the reviews.)_


	9. We're All Searching for Something

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

He landed softly under the cover of night. This was it; the address Molly had given him. Peter was here. Nathan took a deep breath, and tried to figure out what he would say, to Peter and Claire both. After all, Claire had been right; Peter survived, against all odds.

He stepped up to the door, feeling more than a little light headed. His brother was alive! He wanted to scream it as loud as he could. He wanted to fly.

As he raised his hand to ring the bell, the first shadows of doubt crossed his mind. What if Molly had gotten wrong? What if Peter was here, but left? What if Peter didn't want to see him? What if…?

There were too many questions, he told himself, and not enough answers. If Peter didn't want to see him, let Peter tell him so. He pushed the bell. For the first time that night, he dealt with the possibility that his brother might not open the door. What was he going to tell a stranger? A nine-year old girl in New York told him his brother was here, and he flew right out? How would he explain that?

For just one second, Nathan planned on flying away, to never darken this doorstep again, and the door opened. Peter stood there, a shocked expression on his face. Nathan was sure Peter felt like he was looking in a mirror and that he bore the same expression. Then, Peter's face cracked into a large smile. "Nathan," he said, quietly.

"Peter," Nathan said, trying desperately to keep his composure. But, when Peter threw his arms around him, Nathan couldn't help but cry.

"How did you find me?" Peter whispered in Nathan's ear.

"I took the long way around." Nathan braced himself against losing complete control. "Pete, I'm home now."

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**New York, New York**_

"Nikki, I need to know everything about where you've been, and I need to know it now," he said, a clear determination in his voice. Ridge was in the hospital, being tended to by the best doctors around. He would have been here now, if Arianna wasn't on a trip to the Caribbean, but his wounds weren't life-threatening, and she wouldn't treat him if she were here, anyway.

Nikki frowned, staring back across at Matt. The interrogation room smelled like urine, and wasn't the nicest place she could think of to hold a conversation. "I don't remember anything, though. I couldn't tell you anything that could be of help."

"Right," Matt said. "Which is why I'm asking for your permission to read your thoughts? It will be invasive, and more than likely uncomfortable, but a young girl's life is at stake."

He could see her thoughts being broadcast from her eyes. He knew what she was thinking without the link he could've forced. She was thinking about what her son Micah would do, if it were him asked. Finally, she nodded.

"Good. Now, just lay back and try not to think about anything in particular." Matt laid his hands on her forehead, a comforting technique he'd learned from Ridge. If he used contact in as many of his interrogations as he could, people would think he required it.

He pushed the link, and fell into darkness.

The first image to spring forth was that of a man, tall, dressed in a black leather coat and gloves. He couldn't see his face, which wasn't very good, but he could hear his voice and he would be able to recognize it later. The man identified himself as Legion. Matt pushed farther. He felt the man's hand on Nikki's cool skin, then the tug as he pulled her essence into his own. Matt would follow this up with a call to Mohinder; maybe he could tell what kind of ability this was.

It was followed by even more darkness, and was continued with the empty black for a long time. Finally, he could hear voices, whispering in the background, but the only one he could make out was that of Nikki, talking to herself. Then, she was up in the air in the arms of another man, this one much younger, with sandy blonde hair and steel-blue eyes.

Then, the Kirby Plaza interrogation room. It all went nowhere. Matt broke the link with a sigh. "Thank you anyway, Nikki."

He left the room, angry at everything he put himself through. First, Janice left, taking her unborn son with her, and now he lost Molly. If anything happened to her, Matt would chase this Legion to the ends of the earth and unload his pistol into his head. But first, there was Mohinder. He dialed as he entered the elevator.

"_Yes, Agent Parkman? What can I do for you?" _Mohinder asked, speaking clearly despite his accent.

"I need to know about an ability, and you're the closet thing to an expert we have." He described what he saw to the Indian man, and waited while Mohinder searched something on his laptop.

Five minutes later, Mohinder came back. "_It sounds to me like the man you're searching for has the ability to merge other beings into himself."_ Mohinder cleared his throat. _"What are we looking at, Agent Parkman? Is this man another Sylar?"_

Matt sighed again. He hated having to explain everything to everyone. It was growing old. He wished they would gain his ability so they could see what he saw in the field. "No, I don't think so, but I can't be sure without some more investigation. If you must tell Mr. Bennet anything, tell him I plan to have a report on his desk by the end of the week, and, hopefully, a collar on the man."

"_Good luck, Agent Parkman."_

Matt hung up without another word, and went back out onto the street.

_**Will Stone**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

He sat, waiting for Dr. Suresh to finish with his call. The Indian specialist had flown out to Seattle for the upcoming rally of what he called "Evolutionarily Advanced People". He had no idea what they were calling themselves. Mutants, was the term most widely accepted. Sometimes, Will felt like he should have been an X-Man.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stone," Mohinder said, hanging the phone up. "A small business matter that needed my attention. Where were we?"

"I asked you just what the hell you meant by Sonic Manipulation? It sounds like I control hedgehogs."

Mohinder laughed a little at that. "It means that you can manipulate sound. The sonic waves you been spitting out are merely sound, even though they can decimate buildings if you put enough power behind it. With practice, you should be able to generate tones from nothing. Imagine playing air guitar, and actually playing one!"

Will frowned; he didn't like the sound of it. It sounded as he was dangerous. So, he flung a dog three feet with a sonic boom. The dog wasn't hurt, except for his pride, and maybe his dignity. "What you're saying is that I'm a reject from _The Sound of Music_?"

Mohinder shook his head. "That's not it at all."

"Look, doc, no offense, but I really should be going." Will stepped out his chair and hurried out of the small doctor's office Mohinder had set-up for visits like these. He had other problems to deal with. Mackenzie, for one. How was she going to take what he'd become. There go his plans.

He exited the building and faded into the crowd of mutants.

_**Smokey**_

_**Outside of Toronto**_

Claire thought he was sleeping, but he was really watching the car behind them. It had been there since the border, and everything all of his bosses taught said that this car was following them.

The car itself was unremarkable, but it was the fact that he couldn't see the driver that worried him. It could be anyone. The name Sylar sprang to mind. Smokey wouldn't let harm come to Claire; his bosses would kill him. However, he didn't think he could make a stand against a killer like Sylar. He hoped for someone less dangerous, like the thugs that beat them up the other night. They could be dealt with.

"Don't look now, but we're being followed," he said calmly. He knew Claire's first impulse was to look, but he silently applauded her when she didn't. They might just be able to get away from the other person easily.

"They probably work for one of my dads," Claire said. "Both of them are rather over-protective."

_Poor, naïve Claire,_ Smokey thought. _The person they hired to follow you is in the car right now, sitting next to you, telling you about the people following us._ He let out a sigh. The lie was starting to kill him, and he didn't know how much longer he could keep it up.

He was about to spill the beans when his cell phone rang. When he saw the number, he nearly panicked._ Swan._ Why was his contact with them calling him? Something must have gone wrong.

He answered it with another lie. "Hey, sis."

_"Where are you, Smokey?" _Swan asked.

"Look, I'm busy right now. Can this wait?" Claire looked over at him, and he shrugged. Damn lies.

_"You know who I have with me, Smokey. Well, it's just hit the fan. Who else was told about the package?"_

"I don't know where your shoes are. How would I know, what with me in New York? Did you ask Mom?"

"_Is Claire with you right now?"_

"Yeah," Smokey said with mock exasperation.

There was a pause. Then, "_Get here as fast as you can."_

"I told you, I don't…." Swan hung up, "where you are." He hung his own phone up with a curse word. "We have to ditch this guy before we get there. Speaking of which, Where in Toronto is Peter?"

"You know, I didn't think to ask," Claire said, and from the look on her face, he could tell she felt a little stupid right now, so he didn't push it.

As they entered downtown, Smokey led them down an alley, where they ditched the car, and went on foot.

_**Samael**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

He stood in the alley, staring at the abandoned car. _Damn it! Where the hell did they go? _He thought to himself. Three people, three demons, now off the streets. The blonde was the next in the rise of the Angel of Death, followed quickly by anyone else he could his hands on that happened to be with her at the time.

He stuffed his pistol in his coat pocked, and continued pursuit on foot. They couldn't have gotten far.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

It was getting close to midnight, and they were running out of alleys to hide in. Smokey had confirmed the guy wasn't Sylar, but he didn't think it was just some guy looking to beat them up. Worst of all, they were no closer to finding Peter. Peter could help them, would help them, if only they could find him.

Running down yet another alley, Smokey grabbed Claire's arm and pulled her into a dark niche between two dumpsters. He put a finger to his lips, and huddled them deep into the darkness.

Footsteps echoed as their pursuer entered the alley. She could hear the gun clink against the man's belt buckle. She knew it would take a lot to do serious damage to her, but this guy seemed determined enough to try as long as it would take. As the footsteps approached, fear began to take over, not just for her own safety, but Smoke's as well.

The man stopped right in front of them, and she started sweating. The man starred directly at them for at least a minute, and she got a good look at him. blonde, blue eyed, and he had a scar on his lower lip. Fear turned to terror when she realized that she heard this man described over the Agency radio. A killer, like Sylar, targeting people with abilities by the name Samael.

Finally, he started off, leaving them alone. Smokey went to get out of the niche, but Claire pulled him back. "Just a minute," she whispered. She didn't want him to see how bad her knees shook or the fear in her eyes.

It started as a light floating towards them from a perpendicular alley, but when it entered their niche, Claire almost screamed. It took everything she had not to faint. It landed neatly on her knees, stretching truly like a very little person. The only word that she could think of to describe it was fairy.

The tiny woman was no bigger than Claire's middle finger, with two very gauzy wings poking out from her back. She stuck her arms way up in the air, twisting this way and that, while Claire and Smokey starred at it like a couple of morons.

Then, it motioned for them to follow her before taking flight once more and heading back down the other alley. Claire did the only thing she could think of and stood, despite Smokey grabbing her arm. She looked down at him and said, "What other choice do we have? We don't know where Peter is, and I don't think we're going to find out hiding between two of the smellyist dumpsters, do you?'

She followed the little glowing fairy down the darkening alley, with Smokey right behind her, breathing hard at the sight of two-inch high woman flying. It led them to a door, and the fairy went right through it. Claire reached out, her hand trembling. She felt like she was on the verge of complete breakdown. She twisted the knob and pushed open the door, just in time to see the fairy meet the bare chest of a man and become a tattoo. One of many, it would seem.

"He won't give up," the stranger said, his voice incredibly vacant. He didn't seem to see Claire or Smokey. "You can stay here, if you want."  
Claire entered the tiny room, and Smokey followed.

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**New York, New York**_

As Matt exited the Agency HQ, his phone rang. He answered without thinking, believing it to be Mohinder with more information. It wasn't. "_Parkman, we need to talk_," the cold, empty voice of Sylar said.

"What could we possibly have to talk about?" Matt asked.

"_Legion, for one thing_," Sylar said., "_and then there's the story of how you apprehended me."_

"What are you talking about?"

"_I told you I'd be in touch, didn't I? I keep my promises_." Sylar took a deep breath. "_As a show of good faith, I have a bit of information for you. Molly isn't a part of Legion. She's being held at a facility in Nome, Alaska. Call me when you get there, and I'll tell you more_."

The line went dead, and Matt stood there, staring at his phone as if it were poisonous.

___A/N: When those speaking Japanese speak, and it's in parenthesis, it means they're speaking Japanese. I wouldn't attempt at writing the language even if I knew how. It just wouldn't seem right.)_

_**Ando **__**Masahashi**_

_**Hart Center, Tokyo, Japan**_

How could such a thing happen? Ando sat at his new desk as Director of the Tokyo Branch of the Agency, but he was deeply depressed over the murder of Kaito Nakamura. What was he going to do?

It was at that moment that Sakura entered his office. She'd come to join him breakfast. (Director, good morning) she said, offering him a smile that on any other day would melt his woes away. She was just beautiful.

He was about to return the greeting when her face changed from one of sympathy to one of shock, and when the hand fell on his shoulder, Ando jumped. He turned around and gazed into the sweet, good-natured face of Hiro Nakamura. (Hiro!) he shouted, throwing his arms around his once-lost friend.

(Did we do it?) Hiro asked. (Did we save the world?)

Ando nodded enthusiastically. (We stopped the explosion, but where have you been?)

(I'll tell you all about it, but first I must speak with…) Hiro said, trailing off, his eyes falling on Sakura. (Who is this?)

(Allow me to introduce you,) Ando said, getting up and leading Hiro around to her. (This is Sakura Miyamoto. She's special, like you.) They bowed to each other, slightly. (Sakura, this Hiro Nakamura.)

Her jaw fell open, leaving her mouth even wider than before when she saw him appear in thin air. (You're kidding!) she squealed. She bowed again. (It is an honor to meet you, sir!)

Ando could feel the hero worship, and it upset him greatly. He was slowly falling in love with Sakura, and now that Hiro was here, how could he expect her to fall for someone as ordinary as him.

Hiro turned to him, speaking English a thousand times better than before. "I need to speak with my father," he said. "I have to tell him everything." When Ando's face fell, Hiro knew that something bad had happened. "What happened"

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

The man called himself Michael, but he wouldn't give a last name. He walked around his apartment shirtless, giving Claire and Smokey a little too good a view of his tattoos. Many of them made little sense, like the one a bone sword going down his spine, or the compass over his heart, but hey, who was she too judge.

He showed Smokey where he could sleep first, leaving Claire and Michael alone. She didn't feel afraid of this man as she did of Samael, even though Michael was ten times stranger than the killer. He opened a door that led into a small room with a cot and a few personal affects. "You can take Elle's room, but don't touch her things. She'll want them right where she left them."  
He left her alone then, and she entered Elle's room. She couldn't help but look at a picture of Michael and a pretty blonde woman. Claire wondered if she was special, too.

The door opened again, and Michael entered. He clearly wasn't used to guest; either that or he didn't understand privacy. He held his hand out, clearly meaning to give her something, but she didn't move, suddenly afraid of what he might give to her. "I searched for my nearest damnation, and it was you. I searched for my nearest salvation, and it was you. If you're looking for something, use this. It will take you where ever you want. What ever you want to find, it will show the path. It will take you to him."

Trembling, she held her hand out, and felt the weight as he dropped something into. She looked into her palm, and there sat a compass, its needle spinning madly. It stopped, pointing south. She looked up to thank him, but Michael was gone.

When Smokey woke her up the next morning, Michael was nowhere to be found. Claire gathered the few things she had, and let Smokey led her out into the alley. Using Michael's compass, she thought of Peter. The needle still pointed south, so they headed that way.

_**Michael**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

He stood on the roof, watching as Smokey and Claire left the building. Elle Bishop held his hand. "I know you liked them, but we can do nothing more for them."

Michael nodded, knowing he lied to them, and to Elle. He didn't necessarily like them, but he was linked to them, as they were linked to him. He had a famous relative, one which they pressed him for last night. All he had to do was give his last name, and they would have fled into the night, into the arms of another killer. It's never been easy being a Gray, but it got even worse when the world found out that Sylar was Gabriel Gray. Who could like a man whose cousin was a murderous sociopath? They would led him to his errant family member, and when Michael came across Gabriel, he would end Sylar, once and for all.


	10. The Calm

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

He stood with his brother before his paintings. Peter was in shook that Nathan had sought him out. After everything they went through when Peter went nuclear, it seemed as if nothing could ever bring them back together. For the first time in his life, Peter felt as if his father would be proud of them.

"So," Nathan asked, "you can still paint the future and turn invisible, and that's it?"

Peter nodded, surveying his work. Waves of unease flowed of Nathan. There was something he was leaving out of the story of how he came to get Peter. "What's going on, Nathan?"

"It's not important, not anymore," Nathan said. He pointed to the first painting Peter had drawn, the one of the Asian man decapitated. "That one happened already. It was one of dad's old work buddies, Kaito Nakamura."

"Any relation to Hiro?" Peter asked, putting aside the emotion for a moment. There was a reason he showed his paintings to Nathan.

"As it turns out, yes. Kaito was Hiro's father. He's been working for me, recently."

"What do you mean?"

Nathan shrugged. "A lot has changed since you left." Peter smiled. That was a delicate way of putting it. "Let's just say the cat's out of the bag on that one." He moved on to the second painting. "That's Ma."

Peter nodded. The painting of the scarred woman in the hospital bed with two men standing over her seemed to scream at them. It was good to know that Nathan felt that it was their mother, too. It made everything feel almost normal again. "Has it happened yet?"

Nathan shook his head. "Not when I was there." He looked at the two other paintings of deaths. "The last guy should look familiar, too. That's Claire's adopted father, Noah Bennet. Good guy."

Peter sighed, remembering his niece. "How is Claire?"

"That's one of many things we need to sit down and talk about, Pete," the unease seemed to increase in intensity at the mention of Claire. "I don't know where she is. I came here looking for her. She should be here by now, and I'm starting to get really worried."

Peter stepped up to the last blank canvas he had, his eyes fading to white as his trance took over. He began painting.

_**Sakura Miyamoto**_

_**New York, New York**_

She almost dropped to the ground during the teleportation. It was a weird feeling, like being pulled by your insides to a place you know you shouldn't be able to reach. She wondered if Ando felt this way the first time Hiro teleported him.

Sakura looked around at the buildings, thinking New York was filled with tall, close-fitting buildings like in the movies. Instead, she found herself staring one massive building with a gate around it. (Where are we?) she asked.

(At the home of Nathan Petrelli. Hiro has a few words for him.) Ando said. (He's the man who flew Peter up and away from the city.)

Hiro said something in English, and Sakura kicked herself for not taking English lessons. Now she was being left behind. She followed them up to the door, and waited patiently as Hiro knocked on the door.

A woman answered the door, and Ando spoke to her in English. The name's Hiro Nakamura and Nathan Petrelli were all she caught. Sakura registered the fact that the woman recognized both names. She introduced herself as Heidi, and led them into a large parlor, seating them on luxurious couch.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

When Peter stepped back, the painting was finished, but it made little sense. "Isaac told me he could search for someone," he said, a note of sadness in his voice.

"Maybe it just takes time," Nathan said.

The painting was a disturbing one indeed. It showed the front of the house they were in, and a number of people. Peter recognized a number of them; Kate, Nathan, Claire, and himself, but there were more. Claire was between Peter and Nathan, and Kate was in the background with a gray-haired young man. A large, intimidating man stood in the front, as if facing off with the others. There was a shadowy figure peering out of a nearby house, and in the far background, there was a glint of sunlight.

"What does it mean, Pete?" Nathan asked; worry now mixing with the unease. It grew stronger when Peter shrugged.

_**Will Stone**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

He took the steps two at a time, knowing that someone was going to yell at him. He'd been gone all night, without calling. From two stories up, he could hear the voice of the one person he didn't want to talk to. "Damn. You came back."

Will looked up, into the face of Teagan Wilkes. Red hair flowed down around her freckled face. It was amazing how this woman was related to the sweet Mackenzie. "Bite me," he said, continuing to make his way upstairs.

"I take it you took the test and it came back positive," Teagan said with a sneer.

It took everything he had not to come back with what Mackenzie called his trademark snide remarks; you don't antagonize a woman who can shoot flames six feet without a flamethrower. "It's none of your business what the test results were."

"When you're shacked up with my sister, I make it my business," Teagan said. "Considering the way you're reacting, I know I'm right." Will sighed as he twisted the knob of his door, choking back his words. He was going to tell her that she lived under his roof, too, but there seemed no point. "She deservers better than a Mutie like you, anyway."

He spun around with a booming shout that flung Teagan into the far wall. Will cursed himself for unwillingly using his power, but he was ready to do it again. "You're a Mutie, too, you know."

She put her hand up, igniting in the transition, and sent a jet of flame his way. "That's how I know you don't deserve her, freak."

The fight would probably have continued if Mackenzie didn't open the door right then, but she did, pulling Will out of the way. "Quit fighting you two!" Teagan stuck her tongue out at Will as he shut the door. "Bad news, then?" she asked, looking slightly depressed. That made her the only one in the apartment who didn't have a mutated gene in their body.

Will frowned, fingering the small black box in his pocket. How could he tell her that he was a freak and she wasn't; that he was different, and she wasn't? He looked into her face, he sweet, delicate face, framed in short almost blonde, almost brunette hair and nodded.

Mackenzie's blue eyes drooped a little. "I knew it." She nodded her own head, tears coming out of her eyes. "How the hell am I supposed to keep the two of you from killing each other?"

Will shrugged, waiting for the impending shout fest to begin, but it never came. Instead, she kissed his cheek and said it was about time he got home, and that he should take a nap. He sighed, knowing full well that a fight of another sort was about to take place, and that Mackenzie wanted him away as she reamed her sister. He plodded off to the bedroom, looking at the old laptop that lay on alone his desk.

If only he could sell on his books, then he could afford to separate the two. Teagan and Mackenzie fought constantly over him. Maybe, if he had money, Teagan would accept that he truly loved her sister.

He lay down on the bed, taking time only to kick off his shoes before crawling under the covers. It sickened him that his pillow smelled like the whiskey Mackenzie was trying to get him to quit drinking. Everybody had their vice. Teagan had putting Will down, and Mackenzie had her hack of a writer boyfriend. Will had alcohol, and they were trying to take it away. It was the only thing he didn't like about Mackenzie, but even then, he understood.

One day, he told himself as the voice started rising in the living room of his tiny two bedroom apartment, he was going to kick the bottle. Until then, he still had one under his pillow, which he pulled out now and downed more than a mouthful.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

They had been following the compass for hours now, taking the path south until they got to the edge of town and it still pointed south. That's when they had their argument. If the compass truly pointed to what she looked for, then Peter wasn't in Toronto, but Claire could feel that he was here in the city, and refused to give up. They returned to Michael's apartment to ask how the compass worked, but no one was there.

"I just want to find Peter!" Claire said, exasperated. The needle in the compass must have finally gotten the hint, because it started spinning, this time point northwest when it stopped.

"Well, it's not like we have any other leads," Smokey said, taking the compass and leading the way.

It took them to a residential neighbor hood, which they wandered around. As they moved, the needle seemed to pinpoint Peter's position, as it spun as they moved around. They followed it to one house in particular.

Claire sighed as it came into view. "That's it, I give up. He's not here, and the compass doesn't work." But when the door opened, and both Petrelli brother walked out onto the front lawn, Claire lost control. She took off at full speed, crying out 'Peter' as she ran.

He looked towards her and smiled, and Claire leapt up into his arms. When he set her down, Nathan hugged her. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Better question," Peter said. "How did you know I was here?"

Claire recounted her story starting with the strange man who told her to go to Toronto and ending with the compass pointing at the house. She turned to introduce them to Smokey, but he was gone, vanished.

_**Smokey**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

"Now you see what I mean," Swan, also known as Katherine Walsh, said. She pointed to the paintings Peter had drawn of the storms tearing across the world.

"Angel needs to see this," Smokey said. "This could be the one thing he always feared."

"Yeah, he's on his way with Sparky. Wyrm is on his way back, taking time not to get caught this time by either Prometheus or the Agency. The company is finally out of the way." Kate took a deep breath. "The next logical step is Vann."

"You don't think we could possibly get him out of there, do you?" Kate shrugged. There was little else to say.

_**Heidi Petrelli**_

_**New York, New York**_

_Where the hell was Nathan, anyway, _she thought as she poured drinks for his Japanese visitors. She'd been given Hiro's name, and she felt a tension like never before. She may not have a true-blue ability, but she did have a talent for sniffing out trouble. Something big was going on.

She was about to take the drinks into the parlor when a hand wrapped around her mouth and pulled her back. "Say one word, and I'll fry you right here where you stand," a gruff, male voice said into her ear. "Now, where is Nathan Petrelli? I have a gift for him, courtesy of the Prometheus Group."

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Toronto, Canda**_

He felt sick to his stomach. This was beginning to look a bit too much like the painting he just drew, and he still wore the power negating bracelet. Sure, he could still use the painting one and the invisibility, but he couldn't absorb new powers. He had to do something to stop this from happening.

Peter looked at Nathan, still hugging Claire, who was kept between them. Peter spun around, taking it all in. Kate and the gray-haired youth he was sure was Smokey were trying to sneak away, some distance away. A glare of the sun nearly blinded him from a tall building about a hundred yards away.

Worst of all, the shadowy figure was there, behind the neighbor's house. Well, it was more of a shadow falling on the ground from around the corner, but it was still there.

"Look what we have here," a man said, stepping onto Kate's lawn, freezing everyone in their tracks. Peter turned slowly, knowing what he would see and not wanting to.

The Stranger was tall, with a crop of white hair on his head. His face was so very pale; he could be mistaken for a ghost. He stood there, glaring at them like a cowboy ready for a showdown. He was dressed in a long black coat, with black leather gloves.

"Welcome to the party, Peter Petrelli," the man said. "I'm sure you recognize us. Our face surely rings a tiny little alarm in your brain, but it was nearly four months ago that we shared the cell next to you. So, allow us to reintroduce ourselves to you. You may call us Legion, and know this; we are many."


	11. The First Battle

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

"Welcome to the party, Peter Petrelli," the man said. "I'm sure you recognize us. Our face surely rings a tiny little alarm in your brain, but it was nearly four months ago that we shared the cell next to you. So, allow us to reintroduce ourselves to you. You may call us Legion, and know this; we are many."

"Peter," Nathan said, quietly. "Get Claire out of here." Peter looked at his brother and saw pure unadulterated anger. He threw his arms around Claire and faded from view.

Nathan braced himself and leapt into flight, leaving behind him only his foot prints in the gourd, a launch pad of sorts.. He crashed fist first into Legion. He'd heard the name before, and knew what the man was capable of. He wasn't getting Peter, not when he just came back into Nathan's life.

Legion flew back into the neighboring house, crashing through the window. Nathan landed where Legion once stood, Peter reappeared and took his place at Nathan's side. "Get back, Peter," Nathan said. "You don't know what this guy is capable of."

As if to probe his point, fire spurted of the hole Legion made in the wall. Nathan's mouth fell open in shook. "It looks as if you and I have something in common then."

Legion crawled out of the building. With a wave of his hand, he sent Nathan into Kate's front window, then he gripped Peter with an invisible hand.

Smokey leapt in front of Legion and unleashed a combo of punches to his face. Legion barely shut his eyes before gripping the gray haired youth's throat. Legion flung Smokey at a car, where he promptly shattered into a cloud of fog. The enemy continued his path towards Peter.

While Legion was focused on Peter, Claire pulled a knife out her shoe. It was small, but it would do damage. She leapt onto Legion's back and jabbed the blade into his shoulder. He sent a jet of flame in retaliation, burning the flesh of her right arm. She fell to the ground while her skin healed.

From out of nowhere, Nathan flew into Legion, lifting him this time and carrying him straight up into the sky. "Let's see just how long you last up here," he growled as he carried Legion higher. Legion slammed his head into Nathan's, again and again, until he forced him to relinquish his grip.

Using his telekinetic hand, Legion slowed his pace until he landed perfectly on Kate's lawn. Nathan landed two doors down, and collapsed.

Legion smiled, even though Peter was nowhere in sight, he knew that he would never leave his brother.

_**Heidi Petrelli**_

_**New York, New York**_

"You can tell me now, and walk away unblemished," her attacker said, "or I can burn them out of you. I, you see, have the ability to sweat acid, and trust me, you don't want my hands on you when I decide to dispense it."

To make his point, he took one of the glasses Heidi held on the serving tray and melted it. "I told you, I don't know," she said, feeling her anger rise up in her chest. She didn't like being the damsel in distress, and if she saw an opening, she had plans to dispense this cretin herself.

"Come on, don't be like that," he said. "I don't want to hurt you, Mrs. Petrelli, but I will. Now, my beef is with Nathan, so the sooner you tell me, the sooner I'm gone, and then you don't have to worry about little Simon and Monty."

"David!" a commanding voice said from somewhere behind Heidi. "You let go of her right now!"  
David spun Heidi around, giving her a view of the two newcomers. The first was a tall black man with strange necklace; an S with two lines sticking out of the bottom on the left, and one more at the top on the right. To her it looked like a half of a DNA strand.

The other person was more familiar. "Angela, what the hell are you doing here?" Heidi demanded. "I told you to stay away from this family!"

"Hush!" Angela said. "I've come to take my punishment for my part in Peter's explosion." She turned her eyes to David. Heidi felt him shake with fear. "Go ahead, try to melt something." David didn't move. "I see you know the score then, what my friend can do."

Behind Heidi, David nodded, and Angela mirrored the motion.

"I know who you're looking for, and why," Angela said. "Why have Nathan when you can me, instead? After all, it was me that had you locked up."  
David threw Heidi to the floor, and she watched as David put his hands on Angela's face.

She shut her eyes when Angela started screaming.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

This wasn't how she expected her grand reunion to go, locked in a closet with Peter, invisible, and waiting to see if a psychotic killer would find them. He was inside the house, calling Peter. She heard her uncle say Nathan's name and felt his grip tighten on her arm.

"Come on, Peter," Legion called in a little sing song voice. Claire flashed back to the night before, when she and Smokey hid from a man not unlike this. A sense of déjà vu washed over her when she saw Legion stop in front of the closet and stare at it, considering its worth as a hiding spot. "It's you we want. The little girl can go free, if you just give yourself up. Otherwise, we have ways of teaching you why to listen to your betters."

Peter's grip tightened on her arm, until she could no longer feel her arm. She felt him tense and knew that he planned on lunging at this man.

"She heals, we know," Legion taunted again. "We'll roast her again and again, while you watch, smelling the scent of her burning, hear her screams of pain, pleading for us to have mercy…"

It was Claire's turn to grip Peter and keep him from attacking him. Luckily, she didn't have to for long. The gun erupted like a bomb going off. Legion fell to the ground, and Nathan stepped over him. "Peter!" he yelled. "If you're in here, get the hell out! I'll keep him here! Meet me in New York! You know where!"

Peter krept slowly from his hiding place, leading Claire by the arm. They went at a snail's pace until they were on the front porch.

Legion was there on the lawn, holding Nathan by the throat. Nathan was unconscious.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

He let his invisibility drop, revealing himself to Legion. "Alright, you win." He felt defeated.

Legion laughed. "You had your chance to surrender. Now, we must punish you." He threw his hand up, sending a jet of fire off, away from Nathan. "This one doesn't heal like that one, but I be the message still comes across just right." He started to move Nathan towards the flame.

The strangest thing happened. A heavily tattooed man leapt from the roof of Kate's home, wielding a long sword that looked like it was made of a spine. He slashed the blade down Legion's back. Peter heard Claire say, "Michael," then it was over. Legion ran, leaving Nathan lying on the grass, coughing.

The stranger with the bone sword left as well, almost as fast as Legion ran. Kate and Smokey were gone. Peter sagged, almost falling to the ground, and then he ran to look after Nathan. He was going to be fine. Peter looked back at Claire to tell her so, but he felt his stomach drop.

Claire stood there, blood pouring out her chest. The wound was massive, but it seemed as if it didn't go all the way through. Instead, he went to Claire, waiting to cover her when she regenerated, but she didn't heal. In the back of his mind, he knew she wouldn't. Not this time.

A voice, Peter thought it belonged to Michael, filled his head. _"The blood is the key to her healing. The heart pumps the blood. Without the heart, the blood doesn't flow and she doesn't heal. The bullet in her heart"_

Peter thought to himself for a moment. If there was a bullet in her heart, who fired a gun? He didn't hear it.

He remembered the glare of light in the distance, and immediately knew what had happened. _Sniper._

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Nome, Alaska**_

Sylar didn't lie. That was a first.

Matt stared at the door of the facility, wondering how he was going to get inside. The place seemed impenetrable. He went for the kick anyway. To his surprise, the door caved easily. It opened up on a stairwell leading down. He ran, hoping he'd find Molly inside.

At the bottom of the stairs was a guard. Matt had time to catch a thought before he slammed the butt of his gun in the guard's head. _What the hell?_ And then he was down. Matt leapt over the fallen man, and kicked in the other door.

Inside, he found several other guards waiting with guns drawn. They opened fire on him, but he linked to each one and knew the moment they planned on hitting him. It seemed his power was good for more than just search and rescue and interrogation.

Matt returned fire, hitting each time he pulled the trigger. He had to conserve his bullets, so he mapped out the complex and every hiding spot though the guards memory.

With the guards dispatched, Matt entered a long white hallway. He nearly ran down it, to the door on the other side. Kicking this last one in, he found himself on the cop side of an interrogation room. Looking through the one way mirror, he saw her. Molly, laying on a cot reading. He slammed on the glass, but it didn't get her attention.

He exited the door into another hallway, this one leading off in two directions. He had to be careful, he could easily get lost in here.

Sitting here by Molly's door was a man in a white coat, mumbling to himself. "The project is over. No one came back, no one left. And they just throw me away as if I could do nothing."

Matt found only static listening in to his thoughts, not the feedback he got trying to link with Peter Petrelli that time in Odessa. This doctor's head was just empty.

He left the doctor and went into Molly's room.

"Matt!" she yelled, running and leaping into his arms. He forced himself not to squeeze her until she couldn't breathe. He was just so damned amped up. He fled the room, carrying her. The doctor had left the hallway, and Matt felt just fine about that.

They found him in the room where he had the firefight with the guards, dead, with a gun in his hand. Matt made Molly close her eyes until they were back on the street. Then, he ran with her back to his hotel room, where he finally sat down and allowed himself a moment's rest.

It didn't last long. His cell phone rang, and when he answered, Sylar's voice greeted him. _"You have to leave here. Prometheus will track you down. Get out of Nome._

Once again taking the advice of his adversary, Matt loaded his rental car and drove to the airport. Molly, thank god, didn't ask questions or try to find anything out. She was content to just be back with Matt.

When he got to the airport, he took the next flight out, the one headed to Seattle.

_**Samael**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

He laughed as he packed up the rifle. Right up to the end, he knew the blonde Mutie would show.

And she did.

One more on his road to cleansing the world


	12. Reunion

(_A/N – as I'm sure you already realize, I'm not following the television mythology with Claire's Spontaneous Regeneration. There are numerous ways to thwart it, a few of them permanently. Also, her blood can heal wounds and cure diseases, but death is final. That was the one thing I didn't like about season two, how they cheapened death. Here, when someone dies, they aren't coming back._

_Anyway, this is the start of the second story arc. From here on out, it may get more comic book-y. Consider yourself warned.)_

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Toronto Canada**_

"Come on, Claire," he whispered, afraid to be the cause of whatever it is that was inhibiting her healing. "I've know you've been shot before. You can come back from this."

Nathan, having regained himself, came over and stood by Peter, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? Why isn't she healing?"

Peter sighed. "It's her heart. She can't heal with a bullet in it." His head dropped. "I'm pretty sure that's it."

To Peter's surprise, Nathan smiled. "I know a guy who can help us. He used to be a surgeon. It'll be the easiest surgery ever. C'mon, Pete, we got to get her to New York."

"I can't fly anymore, you know that."

Nathan laughed. "Just take that damn bracelet off and you'll be fine."

Peter shook his head violently. "I don't know what'll happen if I do."

Nathan grabbed his brother, lifting him up off is feet and rammed him into Kate's now abandoned house. "This isn't the time or the place for this, Peter. Don't think about you or me. Do it for Claire. If something goes wrong, I'll take of it." He loosened his grip on him, letting him back to the ground. "I'll take care of you, Pete."

Peter nodded, unlatching the bracelet and putting it in his pocket.

"Now, help me lift her up." They held her between them, and with a slight leap, they took off, headed for New York.

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle, Washington**_

He led Molly into the building. It was some luck they got to Seattle before nightfall. Mohinder would still be at work, and he could help Matt disappear. If the Prometheus group did as he thought, they would have people swarming the city within hours.

Inside the building, he flashed his badge at the receptionist, and took the elevator up to Mohinder's floor. He found Mohinder's assistant, instead. The Canadian who could communicate with technology. "Hey, Agent Parkman. How's it going?" Viral asked.

"Not well. I may be in a lot of trouble, and I need help."

"What can I do for you?"

"We need to disappear." Matt looked down at Molly to include her in the statement.

Viral spun around in his chair and turned to the computer. With a few quick clicks on the keyboard, he glanced back at Molly, and asked, "How soon, and how far?"

Matt grimaced. "We probably shouldn't be anywhere in the country, yesterday, if that makes sense."

Viral nodded and continued to type for what seemed like ages. Matt tried to read the ex-hackers thoughts, but there was nothing in there but a bunch of blips and clicks. Finally, he turned back to Matt with a grin, and said, "Very well. Matt Parkman has just reserved two tickets to London."  
Matt thanked him, and took Molly to one of the field offices that waited for Agents in town to use. It was small, and contained only the basics; a bed, a computer, a phone, and a mini-fridge. Molly lay down, while Matt dialed Mr. Bennet.

_"Mr. Bennet's office," _his secretary answered. "_How can I help you?"_

"This Agent Parkman, in Seattle, calling in a Code Six." There was a click, and then he was on hold. Matt hoped to God that she knew the meaning of a Code Six. It was an Agent in danger of capture, send help immediately, but he had to wonder, how much danger was he in? Did he just call in a phony emergency?

He thought of Sylar, and the doctor who committed suicide because his project had ended, and seriously doubted that he wasn't in danger.

Finally, the receptionist came back on. "_Agent Parkman, we have one field agent in the area. He is currently unassigned, and is now on his way to the Seattle Hart Center. He should be there by morning. We'll fax over his file to you, momentarily. Please, remain at the Hart Center until your backup has arrived."_ She then hung up on him.

He sat, watching Molly sleep and waiting for the file to come. Someone would bring it to him, and hopefully a cup of coffee.

The door opened about half an hour later, and a male receptionist handed him the file. On the front, it read _Ortega, Hector. _He opened the file, looking over the more pertinent information. Power type, work history, that sort of thing.

Hector, it seemed, had the ability to generate and discharge electric currents from his hands, with a range of over six feet, depending on the circumstances. He had a background in the military, Special Forces.

Matt lowered his head to his chest as he set the file down by the computer. All was well.

_**Stanley Crane**_

_**New York, New York**_

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said to his aides. "What we have before us is perhaps ever surgeons dream. This young girl has the ability to regenerate, but has a bullet in her heart, keeping her from doing so. Now, as long as we don't mess with the brain, we have nothing to fear."

Many of those around him sighed in relief. They were students after all, never before cutting into a person whose life rests in their hands. Now, there was plenty of room for error. Nothing they could do could permanently injure her, as long as they got the bullet out of her chest.

"There is one small thing we have to do once we finish," Dr. Crane said. "Once the bullet is out, and all obstructions are removed, we must hold the heart incision together until it heals. Once that happens, remove anything that doesn't belong, as I don't know what will happen to them."

Crane lifted the scalpel and started cutting into Claire's chest.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**New York, New York**_

"What is all this, Nathan?" he asked as they waited for Claire to come out of surgery.

"This is the New York Hart Center, situated at Kirby Plaza," Nathan said with a sigh. "It's a place for people like us to come and get help."

Peter fell into one of the chairs, his head spinning around all the implications of this. "So, people know that I nearly took out this city." It wasn't a question. If it had gone this far, people _had_ to know. There was no way around it. Nathan didn't speak; he just nodded his head.

His heart went out to his brother, but there was no way to comfort him. He thought about all the ways he could, but nothing set aside the fact that he almost took one of the largest cities in the world. Not even the fact that he'd freed millions of people from the shackles of uncertainty and fear of themselves could make him feel better.

Nathan put an arm about his brother, taking the seat next to him. "What's done is done, Pete, and nobody holds a grudge. Nowadays, all people want to know is who else is like us. We saved people, Pete. It may not be obvious now, but it will be. Everything will be better."

He looked down at his brother's wrist; he'd put the bracelet back on, keeping his power absorption in check. It was for the best, what with all those with talents around the Center. Nathan pulled his brother close, as Peter began to cry.

_**Wyrm**_

_**Toronto, Canada**_

He stepped out of the wormhole right into Michael's living room. Nobody there looked at him, nor did he look at them. He just took a seat on the floor and waited. Kate was there, and so was Elle. Smokey and Michael. They all felt a great emptiness in them. Someone should be there with them, but wasn't.

He glanced quickly at Michael and saw in his eyes what his captain was thinking.

Jailbreak.

What Wyrm didn't know was that there was a plan already, come straight from Alphonse. Soon, the Angel would be with them again, and Michael would see to it.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**New York, New York**_

After his tears had dried up, Peter felt an intense urge to just leave, to wander the city, seek out somewhere familiar and hang on to it. It thought it was because of the massive changes he'd come back to, or perhaps it was because he was locked up for four months in the Prometheus Project. He stood up and started pacing, the only thing holding him there was Claire. He had to wait for her, just had to. Ever since the changes started, she was the first person he felt he could be completely honest with, and have that honesty pay off in the end.

Sure, he'd spoke with Isaac Mendez, shared his gift, but he'd never been close to him, nor ever would be. Simone just didn't believe him until it was too late. Hiro had his own problems to deal with.

And then there was Nathan. Nathan just denied everything, even ostracizing Peter publicly to win an election. At the time, Peter understood, but now, with everything else, it throbbed in mind like a sore tooth in a rotten socket. First, Nathan wanted nothing to do with the change, and now here he was, leading the revolution.

Peter stopped about to say something to his brother, when Dr. Crane entered the waiting room. Nathan leapt to his feet. "Well?" he asked, worry and concern in his voice like snakes intertwined.

Crane said nothing; he just smiled for a moment, and then stepped aside.

Claire stepped forward, moving a little awkward in the clothes they'd given her. For a moment, they stood there, staring at each other. Then, Claire ran, wrapping her arms around Peter.

_**Heidi Petrelli**_

_**New York, New York**_

She watched the young woman let go of Peter and move to Nathan. She could smell the trouble brewing, almost see it, thick around the three of them like fog clinging to the shore. "Let's give them a minute, see how this turns out," she said to Ando.

Heidi had received a call the Nathan and Peter were in the building, and she felt what she was sure was Nathan's triumph at finding his brother. Now, however, she felt something else. Something very similar to deceit.

"Don't say anything about this to them, okay?" she asked Ando, and he nodded. "All we need to say is that their mother is in the hospital, and then I'll take them there and you can get Hiro." Ando nodded again, unaware that she was talking more to herself then to him.

She led him forward, a false smile on her face. When she was within earshot, she said, "Peter!" She hugged him. It was good to see him after so long. She felt the tension grow between the young blonde woman and Nathan; Heidi had cut their party short. She turned to Nathan, intent on saying what she had to. What she saw between Nathan and the woman nearly took her breathe away. She stumbled over her words, before she finally spit them out. "Angela's back."

Nathan's face fell. Just after the explosion that changed everyone's lives, he'd confided in Heidi the hatred he felt towards their mother. She'd been in on the orchestration of the explosion, and had been intent on seeing come to fruition, with New York gone.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**New York, New York**_

Nathan and Peter stood next to the hospital bed, looking at the woman who'd given birth to both of them. Her face was horribly scarred, and the doctor's say she won't make it through the night. They also say that she is refusing treatment.

One of her eyes opened when Peter takes her hand. She parted her lips, wetting them with her tongue. Then, she spoke. "Boys, my boys, together again." She tried to smile, but couldn't manage and settled for half of one. "It's so good to see you both, even with what I've done.

"I'm sorry for what I've done, and for what I must do. I never wanted any real harm to come to you, but you have to do one last thing. When we started the company, there was a group of people with powers far greater than our own, powers like Peter's. They were so powerful, that when we captured them, we forced them deep underground.

"One of them broke out, taking numerous others with him, and started his own organization. It happened while we're getting ready for the explosion. You must destroy it. You must destroy the Prometheus Group."

Her eyes shut, and the heart monitor's beeping slowed, until it was one long continuous noise. Peter and Nathan hung their heads.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**New York, New York**_

She stood in front of the vending machine, trying to decide what to get when Heidi came over. The older woman stood behind her, waiting for something. For the first time in a long time, Claire felt dread, not just fear, but dread. What she said would affect not only herself, but Nathan and Heidi, not to mention their children together.

Finally, Heidi spoke, and her question took Claire off guard. "How old are you? Seventeen, eighteen? Nineteen?"

"Sixteen."

Heidi nodded. "You're too young for either Nathan or Peter, especially Nathan." She took a deep breath, and then asked the question Claire was expecting. "Who are you?"

Claire froze. What was she supposed to say? It wasn't her job to break the news to Heidi that Nathan had a daughter with another woman, and telling Heidi her name would only confuse matters further. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't.

Heidi shook her head. "No. Don't tell me. I can do the math." She went and took a seat in the waiting room, weeping slightly.

Claire exhaled deep. She felt like she was free from the trap, but for how long? She knew Heidi would have to find out sooner or later. Whenever it did, Claire might as well have a good relationship with Heidi. She went and sat next to Heidi

As she sat in the chair, Heidi spoke. "I see the way he is with you. It only makes things more clear." She dabbed at the tears in her eyes. "Just like the way he is around Monty and Simon, and sometimes Peter. He was almost always on the road back then, and not once did I suspect anything. But, here is the proof, sitting right next to me."

Once again, Claire opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Heidi continued, unaware that Claire couldn't say anything. "Of course, we were just dating back then, nothing too serious. I should have known he couldn't just keep waiting for me, when he was constantly gone. I suppose I should be thankful that in the end, he did learn to keep it in his pants."

Claire started to stand, but Heidi grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"There's only one thing I want to know from you," she said, staring straight into the back of Claire's mind. Claire held her breath, waiting for the killing blow, wondering how she would make, slow and painful or fast and painful. When Heidi opened her mouth to ask, Claire was ready for the worst. "Why hasn't anyone told me about you?"

Claire exhaled so hard, she nearly passed out. "I don't know," she said.


	13. Justice

_**Will Stone**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

Not for the first time that day, Will felt completely revolted by himself. He had to borrow money from Teagan for the cab ride here. He was here to pick up his cousin, Gavin Stone, from Kansas for the rally coming in the next week. He stood waiting by the front doors, hoping he could get Gavin home.

The whole situation felt weird to Will. The only reason Teagan loaned him the money was because she liked Gavin, even though he was fresh out of high school. He couldn't even buy a legal drink yet. Gavin was the complete opposite of Will, though. Will had been a loser in high school, while Gavin was the star quarterback.

The cousins looked a lot alike; the same brown hair and eyes, roughly the same bone structure. The only real difference was that Gavin was muscular.

It was about noon when Gavin meet Will at the front door, his only bag thrown over his shoulder. Already suspicious about Gavin's sudden interest in Seattle, Will asked, "Aren't you a little early for the rally?"

Gavin shrugged. "I thought we could spend some time together, man. You and I, we're birds of a feather."  
Will doubted this, and just about anything that came out of Gavin's mouth. Gavin was already on his way to being, if not rich, than reasonably well off, and that meant he had an agenda, at least in Will's experience. "So, I take it you've taken the test, too?"

"Nope," Gavin said with a shake of the head. "I'd already manifested, and there really was no reason to prove what I already knew. I did register though." _Yes, _Will thought, _always the good little monkey._ "Shadow Manipulation. What about you?"

"I took the test, Sonic Manipulation," Will said, leading his cousin outside.

To further his disgust, Gavin didn't hail a cab. Instead, he'd rented a car in advance, and it was waiting for him when they exited the building.

_**Noel Gillespie**_

_**Las Vegas, Nevada**_

The two of them sprang out of nowhere; one of them a tall blonde woman, the other a weird guy with black hair and muddy eyes. It was the woman who approached her. "Are you Noel Gillespie?"

Noel nodded.

"This is the right place, then."

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled. "My name is Elle Bishop. I work with a bunch of other people, with talents like us. You could say we're like the Justice League."

_**Kit Frost  
Hart Center, New York**_

He held in his hands the baggie containing the bullet from a sniper rifle pulled from the heart of a young Evolved girl. It was Samael's MO. Ashe sat nearby, ready to talk him through this little talent experiment. "Ready when you are," she said, and he sighed.

"It's not you on the line, is it?" Frost asked. This whole idea really scared him, a hell of a lot more than insurgents in Iraq. At least you know they what they could do; as for himself, he had no idea. He took in a deep breath, and pulled the bullet out.

"Now," Ashe said, "you can hear me when you go on these trips." He nodded, despite the fact that it wasn't a question. "Then off you go and I'll walk you through it."

He shut his eyes, waiting for the click that started the rewinding process. When he opened them, he found himself being pulled backwards from the Evolved girl towards a far off building. That's when he saw Samael, sitting behind the rifle, pulling the trigger as the round flew back into the muzzle. Frost nodded, knowing, if nothing else, Ashe could see him.

"Drop the bullet, and grab him," Ashe said, coming from a long way off. Her voice sounded like it was underwater. He did as she request and shut his eyes again, this time fast-forwarding.

He opened them again, surprised at what he found. A Hart Center, somewhere other than New York. The sign in the lobby said it was Seattle, and it was supported by the fact the Samael was being led by Mohinder It seemed Samael was a little curious about his own blood. Frost speed time up, enough to get to the small medical room where Mohinder would test the killer.

"Our little friend thinks he might have evolved," Frost said, hoping Ashe could hear him. Mohinder and Samael sure couldn't. He watched raptly as Mohinder left with a syringe of Samael's blood. Speeding through things, Frost waited impatiently for Mohinder to come back. He felt he had to know if he was dealing with an Evolved being. It would be even more important if he could find out what ability Samael possessed.

When Mohinder opened the door, returning to tell the killer his fate, the image broke up, turning to static. It ripped through Frost's brain like wild fire, tearing him up. Pain surged throughout his body. The last thing he remembered seeing was Mohinder nod, but the sound was lost.

Then, everything went black.

_**Hector Ortega**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle**_

Most people wouldn't think of Hector as dangerous. He wasn't especially big, but he packed one hell of punch, and things weren't going his way in a fight, he could always shock his opponent.

Now, as he made his was to the field offices, Hector grinned. It was public knowledge that Matt Parkman was in charge of the search for Sylar. Parkman, it seemed, had an edge of sociopath. Now, he had the muscle he lost when Agent Ridge was incapacitated. More important, Hector was going to get his shot at Sylar, something that smug little killer would never see coming.

He met Parkman just outside the field office that he spent the night in. Hector went straight to attention, salute and all. It was the way he used to greet higher ranking officers back in the service. Matt wasn't quite what he imagined him to be. Agent Parkman was portly, short and round. How they believed he could stand against someone like Sylar was beyond him, but he didn't question orders. After all, this was his first field assignment, and he wasn't going to let first impressions get him thrown off the case, not for the world.

Parkman looked a little confused at the salute. Screw him, if he didn't get it, that was the way Hector saw it. He finished the salute. "Agent Ortega, reporting for duty."

"Okay," Matt said, sounding more than a little perplexed. _Civilians, _Hector thought.

"You called in for back-up, and now here I am," Hector clarified. "What's the problem?"

"It's not as big as I made it out to sound, but I could use the assistance," Parkman said, with a sheepish half grin. He started walking down the hall, and Hector fell into step behind him. "I've got a tip about a place up north, and I went to investigate. There, I found the missing Molly Walker, who is now safe in the custody of Dr. Suresh. There were a lot of armed guards, and I was afraid they would retaliate. They were clearly able to do so, and in force. You and I, however, are going back after I send my report to Director Bennet."

Hector nodded, even though Parkman couldn't see him. He wasn't getting his shot at Sylar just yet, but he was getting action. He hoped Parkman could keep up with him.

_**Nathan Petrelli **_

_**New York, New York**_

Matt's report came straight to the desk of Director Petrelli. It contained just the right words to be flagged. _Prometheus Group, _right at the top, in big bold letters. Considering his mother's last words, Nathan felt like this was sent from a higher force in the universe. If he didn't know better, he'd swear it was Peter's doing, and that was the first person he called.

"Pete, we got a hit on Prometheus," he said into his cell phone.

"_Already?"_

Nathan nodded, despite that fact that his brother was on the phone. "It seems an agent of ours has already had a run in with them, and plans on investigating a facility in Alaska. The problem is, he thinks they're going to make a move in Seattle, which is too possible to even think twice about. The city's having what's being called as the first Mutant Rally in a few days."

"_Yeah, Claire told me about that rally, just a few minutes ago," _Peter said. _"We were planning on heading out there tomorrow."_

"That's good, Pete, but I don't know if I want you or Claire out where there could be danger. It's just that we're finally starting to make some sort of family again, and I don't want to lose either of you."

"_We'll be fine, Nathan. Quit worrying." _Peter said. He then changed the subject. _"Have you spoken to Hiro, yet?"_

Nathan sighed. He knew when he lost a fight with Peter, even after four months. Some things just don't change. "Yeah, he was looking for help finding his father's killer. I told him that you and I had a few other things to look into, but that he could access to Agency assets, both here and in Japan. His friend Ando will see to it."

"_That's good,"_ Pete said. There was something odd in his voice, and Nathan wanted to ask about it, but thought better. He knew what it was, but wanted to make sure. It was doubt. Pete doubted himself again. It was the same tone he had right before he blew up, back in the parking garage that very night. He'd come to ask for help from Nathan, but Nathan hadn't quite undone their mother's spell. In the end, Nathan came through, but he couldn't help wondering if Pete would doubt himself as much if Nathan would have helped from the beginning. "_Look, Nathan. I gotta go. Claire and I are going out for food and…"_

"Say no more, Pete," Nathan said. "I understand. Just, just wait and talk to me before the two of you head out to Seattle, okay?"

_"Okay."_

"Pete," Nathan said, feeling his heart leap into his throat. He didn't know why, but he felt it had to be said. He felt as if something bad was going to happen. "I love you, Pete."

"_Love you, too. Bye." _ And just like that he was gone. There was nothing coming from his end of the line except for the dial tone. Nathan let himself sink into his chair. It should be him going out to Seattle with Peter, if anybody. Claire should be living her life, somewhere safe, where she didn't have to worry about saving the world. _Jesus!_ She was only sixteen. This was his responsibility.

The door to his office, derailing his train of thought. Heidi stepped in and walked to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. She moved oddly stiff, and Nathan felt his stomach sink. It was time for the truth to come out. Heidi would demand answers: about Claire, about what happened November 8th, about how Peter exploded, and about where Peter had been. He inhaled sharply, feeling like he was losing his grip on the world around him.

"Nathan," Heidi said, her voice distant and cold, "We need to talk."  
_Oh dear God, this is it, _Nathan thought. "Yes, yes we do."

"We need to talk about Claire."

Again, it felt like his heart had climbed into his throat. This was it, the moment of truth. He would either lose everything that mattered, or add a new member to the family, depending on the words he said now, and Heidi never bought his political mumbo-jumbo. There was only the truth, here.

"Why haven't you told me about her?" Her voice was strangely light, her tone playful. Nathan was perplexed, his mind boggled, his energy spent.

"What do you mean?"

"You know I've always wanted a daughter."

There it was, out in the open, and…

…_Wait, what?_

Heidi went on. "I mean, I love Simon and Monty to death, but come on! I could actually have some fun with a daughter, and Claire looks like she likes to shop."

Nathan's heart skipped a beat. Sweat dripped from his brow. He exhaled, heavily, for the first time feeling like a massive weight was off his shoulders. "I, I, I…"

"Let's invite her to dinner, tomorrow," Heidi said, standing up. "We have so much to catch up on. Sixteen years is a long time, and I want to know everything, including when she was conceived." There it was, the point of the blade she meant to stab into him, but he didn't hold it against her. "You have some explaining to do when you get home. I just wanted you to know that I'm okay with her, but you might end up on the couch for the next few years."

Nathan laughed, barely able to breath.

_**Will Stone**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

It was walks like this that helped him not drink. Gavin was back at his place, talking with Mackenzie and Teagan about things back home in Kansas, and Will was here, clearing his mind.

Will had always had a feeling of something grand in his chest. He thought it was that he was meant to write the next great novel, but that obviously went bust a long time ago. Sure, he was only twenty-four, but his lungs and his liver were turning a nasty shade of black and his imagination was never too good. Three years ago, he realized it and he started taking to the bottle. His big reason was kaput, no more, nothing left, no passing go, no two hundred dollars.

Behind him, he heard the sounds of a scuffle. He turned back to see some hoodlum trying to steal the purse from a woman, about a block or two away. The woman was putting up a hell of a fight, but she couldn't hold on forever. The robber was reaching into his pocket, most likely for a weapon.

For Will, the world slowed to almost turtle speed and he ran towards the fight. He was always that way, willing to fight to defend people he couldn't. As he ran, he had time to look around. This part of Seattle was slowly diminishing, going to gangs and drug-dealers. It even had a problem with prostitution.

He didn't think, just let his body act. He shocked himself when yelled, shooting his hands forth to bend the sound of his voice, twisting it into a weapon, and letting it slam full force into the would be robber, he flew at least sixteen feet into the air, and came down with a thud on the half a block down.

The woman turned to thank him, but he didn't hear it. What he heard instead was the sound of the robber's gun hit the ground and go off, breaking the window in the store behind the woman. She screamed and took of into the night, begging for him not shoot her.

He didn't pay any attention to her. The store itself had captured all of his attention. It was a comic book store. He felt the pages of the comics call to him, and he knew what he had to do with his life.

Will had been given a gift, not to abuse it, but use it, for the good of the world. He was here to save the day, like those who had come before him. Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, the X-Men. He'd heard his calling, and would live up to it everyday, fighting for the cause.

In his heart, Will knew his days of drinking were over.


	14. Into The Storm

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**New York, New York**_

The air was thick with tension. Across from her sat Heidi and Nathan, and the two of them sat, barely hiding the stress from her. Claire could see it creeping in at the sides of their faces, like they were wearing masks to keep something from her.

The restaurant was nice; it wasn't too fancy, just fancy enough for her to be wearing a dress. All three of them picked at their food.

"So, Claire," Heidi spoke up. "Where are you from?"

"Texas," Claire said, trying to be polite. Her mind raced through the tips Peter had given her before she left. He'd told her everything he could about dinner with Heidi, and she tried to follow each one. She'd been staying in Peter's guest room to ease the situation without her constant presence.

"Wow," Heidi said, and Claire could just hear the awkwardness ooze from her… Well, whatever Heidi was to her. She still wasn't calling Nathan Dad or anything, so how could Heidi expect to Claire to call her mom? This was completely beyond her. How was this supposed to go?

In the back of her mind, she heard Peter's answer when she asked him the same thing. _No one knows, that's the fun of it. Just go, play it by ear, and remember what I told you. No one, least of all Nathan, is expecting you and Heidi to just immediately hit it off._ Yeah, easy for him to say, probably laid up in bed, taking it easy.

"Have you decided where you're going to live, yet?" Heidi asked, bringing Claire back to the present.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"Where you're going to live?" Heidi asked. "I know your dad's still in town, but you still have a mom in Texas who loves you. Besides, someone your age should be in school. Are you going to stay in New York, or back to Texas?"

Claire shrugged. "I haven't given it a lot of thought. Before, I was sticking around and waiting for Peter to come back. Now, I don't really know." She forced it out. Claire had hoped no one would ever bring it up, at least not until she knew what she wanted to do. She looked over at Nathan, who was examining his food very closely.

"I just thought that if you wanted to stick around," Heidi said, "we could get you into the same private school that Nathan and Peter went to. The Petrelli name still goes a long way." Heidi seemed to fluster at that, and then added, "Not that you have to take the Petrelli name." Nathan almost sank under the table.

"That would be good, but still," Claire said, trying not to be forced into a decision now. "I'm just not sure."  
Then, Heidi said the words that made everything seem so much better. "You're always welcome with us, Claire. Always."

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Hart Center, Tokyo, Japan**_

"You don't have to do this, Hiro," Ando said, trying to persuade his friend to stop.

Hiro shook his head. "I have to know who killed my father, Ando, and just maybe, I can stop it."

"You've tried to change the past before, remember? It didn't work out so well." Sakura stared at them with wonder, trying to figure out what they were saying.

Hiro squinted his eyes, focusing on one spot in history, and let himself go into the time stream.

When he opened them, he wasn't in Japan, anymore. He didn't know where he was. The place looked like a war zone, with plumes of black smoke rising out of craters. He could smell the ocean nearby, but that meant little to him. That could be anywhere. Hiro could barely tell which was the sun was headed, the sky was so dark.

To his right were the destroyed remains of a city, the skeletons of buildings half-heartedly reaching to the sky amid the smoke and smog. Hiro sniffed, bringing in the smell of rot and decay. (What happened here?)

"War happened," a voice said, and a striking figure appeared behind him, putting his hand on Hiro's shoulder. "Hiro Nakamura, it's been too long."

Hiro spun around, reaching for the hilt of his sword. The person looked familiar, but Hiro just couldn't place the face. It was half hidden by shadow, and one eye was covered with a patch. The hand that fell from his shoulder was the strangers left, and it had been replaced by a metal one. How it worked, Hiro did not know, but then again, he didn't know how he could teleport through time and space.

"Who are you?" Hiro asked.

"You'll know in time," the stranger said. "Follow me." The stranger turned and walked away, away from the city. Hiro had no choice but to follow him.

Hiro was lead over the mutilated landscape, around craters with smoke streaming out of them, over waters that didn't look entirely clean or safe to drink, through wreckage of cars, some still with bodies in them.

"We never saw it coming," the stranger said. "The war took us all by surprise. Over half of the survivors are now in camps, like the ones Germany had in World War II. A few people remain to fight the enemy. For those who have fallen, we built this."

The stranger held his metal hand out to a long shiny black wall. It stretched to both horizons. Upon closer inspection, Hiro could see that there were thousands of names carved on it. Leaning in to read the names, Hiro asked, "What happened?"

The Stranger sighed. "Hiro, look at me." Hiro did, and he saw the rest of the man's face, much more clearly now. It was the aged, long face of Ando. "Do you know where we are?"

Hiro shook his head.

"This is the remains of the once great city of New York. I can tell by looking at you what you're thinking and no, there wasn't another exploding man." Ando gazed over at the churning sea. "The year is 2010, four years after Peter Petrelli nearly destroyed the city, and now they have done it."

"What happened?" Hiro asked again, more urgently this time. Ando ignored him.

Ando put his hand on the wall and rubbed the names with his fingers. "Look, here you are. Hiro Nakamura died a hero to millions." Tears began to fall from Ando's face. "Right before Peter Petrelli, right after Claire Bennet." Hiro's eyes lit up with recognition. "That's right. It was a raid. For so long, we thought it was Peter doing this to us but no, that night he came to help us. He was, for a fleeting moment, our last chance."

"What are you doing here?" Hiro asked, trying to get something out of his future friend.

"You told me to be here," Ando said. "Right after you get back, you'll tell me all about it. I'll run it through my mind again and again. Why didn't you tell me what would happen to me?" He looked at his metal hand. "For years afterwards, I hated you for it. I told myself that you knew that if you told me, I would never go with you, but I knew that was foolish. Then, I realized what you did for me, giving me my own chance at being a hero."

"Are you going to help me stop it, whatever it is?" Hiro asked. He didn't even hope for an answer that made sense.

Ando surprised him. "No. There is nothing I can do."

Hiro nodded and turned to walk away. Ando called him back.

"You're going to help you." Hiro spun around, confused, and there, in the hands of Ando was a red notebook. "You wrote it, up until you died, writing in all the keys leading up to the start of the war. I finished after you died. Oh, and you told me one more thing to tell you." Ando took a deep breath. "The key to finding your father's killer is to search for the Prometheus Group. Your father knows all about it. It's in his files. Peter Petrelli can help."

Ando handed Hiro the notebook, just as a helicopter appeared over the ruined city.

"Go, now! If there's going to be a chance to avoid this, you must leave now!"  
Hiro clutched the book to his chest and slammed his eyes shut. He disappeared just as the gunship opened fire, killing Ando.

Hiro opened his eyes, and looked into the face of Ando, unharmed, without the eye patch. He was whole again. Hiro pulled him into a hug, dropping the notebook between them.

_**Sylar**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

Nobody would think twice about him in this neighborhood. The whole place was filled with killers. What was one more?

In the back of his mind, Sylar could hear the ticking of the clock and marveled at his own plan. Soon, he would bring about the destruction of the Prometheus Group, and then kill one of his greatest enemies.

The Agent stepped out of the abandoned building right on cue. "Parkman," Sylar said, curtly.

Matt nodded. "If you don't want this to go south, you'd better tell me everything you got on Prometheus."

"I know it's not just one guy, no one is this powerful. I know about the Nome Facility. What you don't know is the All-Gift project, headed by Dr. Baker. There were four subjects in the project: Peter Petrelli, Jon Baker, Legion, and myself. We were sent to gather the gifts they told us to." Matt wrote down the names in a little notebook, along with everything else Sylar said.

"The one you should be wary of is Julie Donovan," Sylar continued. "I have no idea what her ability is, if she even has one, but the lady is vindictive. What few people knew was that she was in charge of Nome Facility. Find her, find your answers."

"That isn't enough," Parkman told him, and Sylar sneered. As if the meaningless little cop could keep him! The Agent's eyebrow went up. And Sylar checked his thoughts. It wouldn't do to have this worthless peon interfering with the Plan.

"It's all there is," Sylar said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Maybe this will help you. It's how they gave me assignments. Good talking to you, Agent Parkman." Sylar took flight, leaving Matt behind. With one quick glance down, he ascertained that his plan was working. Parkman didn't even reach for his gun.

_**Noah Bennet**_

_**Hart Center, New York, New York**_

He sat at his desk, staring out the window, conflicted. He couldn't tell if Claire having dinner with the Petrelli's was a good thing. On one hand, she deserved to know where she came from. On the other, Noah wanted her to himself. She was, after all, his Claire-Bear, and he shouldn't have to share her with this putz.

The door to his office opened and in stepped the last meeting Noah had that day. The man was average height, slightly portly, and balder than ten year old tires. Bob pulled his glasses off his face, rubbed the lens with his shirt, and grimaced. "Noah, good to see you again."

"Wish I could say the same to you." Noah turned to face him. "What do you want?"

"Protection."

"From who? I know the company is still in operation outside the country. Who could possibly pose a threat?"

Bob's grimace grew. "Have you heard of the Prometheus Group?" Noah shook his head. "Well, the truth of it is, they are trying to kill me and everyone else involved with the company. Their starting with the heads, but they'll move one to family members soon, and possibly agents and former agents of the company. Even if they don't, Claire is with the Petrelli's now, isn't she?"

Not for the first time in his life did Noah want to knock the teeth out of Bob's head. "Get out."  
"Wait, I have an offer for you," Bob said, trying desperately to get back into good graces with Noah, even after the veiled threat. "The company is shutting down. Let's say we can't deal with the competition. Anyway, I'm offering you all of our files and facilities if you'll just help us."

"Give me the files, and I'll get back to you," Noah said, leaning back. "As I'm sure you know, I'm not in charge of the Agency. I'll have to take it up with him. Consider the files a show of good faith." Noah held out his hand. "You, of course, will take up residency here immediately, whether you like it or not."

Frowning so deep, his face looked like it was melting; Bob handed over his briefcase, and settled in to wait for the Director.

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

The line at the airport was intolerably long, and Hector was impatiently arguing with the clerk. Matt sat in a nearby chair, avoiding the gaze of anyone suspicious. He still suspected the Prometheus Group was going to swarm Seattle, looking for him and Molly.

After an hour of arguing, Hector fell into the chair next to him, with two tickets. "If only you'd tell me why it's so damn important to get to Nome tonight, maybe I could have found a reason to argue. Instead, I got us two tickets that leave at three in the morning, and I don't know why."

"There's somebody there, in Nome," Matt said, giving into Hector's pleading. "She's got the information we need."  
Hector's eyes lit up. Matt could feel the excitement flow out of him.

_**Legion**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

He leaned over the unconscious body of Gabriel Gray, grinning. "Finally, we'll get enough power to take on Peter ourself, with your help of course." He leaned in close to Sylar's face. "Give us a kiss." He slammed his face into Sylar's, sucking him in. Legion's right hand found Sylar's left check.

In a moment, there was nothing left of Sylar but a pile of clothes. Legion stood, feeling rejuvenated.

In just a few days, the rally would draw hundreds of people with talents to Seattle. Soon, he would finally be able fight the ever growing Peter Petrelli. He grinned, unnaturally wide. His teeth were rotting, and his eyes had gone from once blue to a horrible sickly yellow. He never felt better.


	15. Eve of a Massacre

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Hart Center, Tokyo, Japan**_

He sat on the floor of his father's old office, sifting through the various files Kaito had on the Company. There was little help in it, until he came across one labeled _Vann._This guy, it seemed, was born in sometime before the Revolutionary War, with gifts very much like those of Peter Petrelli. He, as well as two other people, met with Adam Munroe to discuss the possibility of an Agency designed to aide people with talents such as themselves. Adam went on to create the Company, until he was locked up by Kaito, himself.

Vann went on to be apart of the Prometheus Group until 1989, when he was captured by Company agents and imprisoned in a holding cell. The didn't list the location of the cell, but it went on to say that his two friends survived the ravages of time, and that one of them now runs the Prometheus Group.

Hiro sighed. How could one man live so long, not to mention four of them? Something definitely wasn't right. How could he bring Ando or this girl Sakura with him in his quest for justice? He'd sent the two of them home, knowing full well that Ando would be there when Hiro decided to go off and find the killer.

There were no answers in the files, not that he could find, but he still had the notebook Ando had given him in the future. There was so much to do, Hiro was glad he had four years. He flipped it open and found a list of things. It was the top three that caught his attention. They happened in the next few days, according to his own handwriting. A massacre in Seattle; the death of a man named Robert Bishop, and the loss of several files held by Noah Bennet.

Hiro found his quest had started without knowing it. He stood, ready to head off for Seattle, when both Ando and Sakura burst into the room. "You can't leave without us," Ando said.

"How did you know I was leaving?"

"Simple, you found your father's killer. That's what you were looking for, right?" Ando frowned. "I can understand why you'd leave her behind, but me? I was always there for you before. The least you can do is give me a chance to be a hero."

That tugged on Hiro's heart strings. He remembered the future Ando, speaking randomly about this very thing. How could he take Ando? Hiro remembered the scars on Ando's body, the loss of his eye and hand, and then his final death. There was no coming back from that. Hiro shut his eyes, and disappeared from the office.

Ando looked down at where Hiro had been standing. The notebook was open and Ando saw Seattle right there at the top of the list. _Very well, Hiro, _Ando thought. _If you don't want to give me my chance, I'll just have to take it._

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**JFK Airport, New York, New York**_

"I don't see why we should take a plane to Seattle," she complained as the board the airplane. "You could just fly us there."

Peter shook his head. "I promised both of you dads that I'd get you there safely. That means you have to have something around you to keep you in the air, i.e. a plane. Besides, I wouldn't want to drop you over the Midwest."

"You flew me back from Toronto."

"I had Nathan, then."

Claire frowned, as her uncle turned away from her. Peter had changed. He seemed so much more timid, afraid to use the gifts he'd been granted. He didn't smile as much, anymore. "You have to get used to them sooner or later," she mumbled to herself. He didn't hear her.

About half an hour later, the plane taxied down the runway, getting ready to take off. She heard Peter whisper, somewhat scared, "Seattle, here we come."

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Nome, Alaska**_

"This is it," he said to Hector, leading the way down the staircase, the mental map he forged from the minds of the guards still active. "Keep your eyes open."

This time, he took another door at the bottom of the stairs, which led to a series of computer terminals. Hector sat down at one, and started typing.

"What are you doing?"

"Seeing if the system can be hacked into," Hector said, not looking at Matt. After several clicks, he must have decided he couldn't do it and he stood.

"Come on," Matt said, taking off down one of the hallways. "There are holding cells this way." It led into another hall, this one looking very much like a hospital wing. In the main room, there was a desk with a computer on it and a walkway that had doors on either side. Two of them were destroyed.

"What do you think happened here?" Hector asked as they crept down the walkway. Matt shrugged; peeking into the room that looked like it had been broken in to. "The whole place stinks of fear and urine."

"Be that as it may, we have to search every inch of this place. The Prometheus Group is three or four times more dangerous than Sylar.

"I'm going to check the desk," Agent Ortega said. "These rooms give me the willies."

Matt went on down the line, checking each room. He heard Hector searching the desk drawers.

"Parkman! I found something," he called. Matt came running back. Hector was typing furiously into the desk terminal. "It seems one Peter Petrelli did a stint in this place. They called him Point Zero. He was in the All Gift program, headed by one Julie Donovan. Do you think the Director knows about his brother's involuntary participation in this?"

Matt shook his head. "See what you can find on the other patients."

"Well, the doctor doing the experiments subjected his own son to the program. Jon Baker, the doctor's son, could mimic a lot of other abilities with his own. Energy Absorption and Discharge. It has a list of the gifts he could mimic.

"Our very own Gabriel Gray is in here and is listed to have Spontaneous Regeneration, flight, and it says his next power to acquire was phasing. Think it has anything to do with that fireman, DL Hawkins disappearance?"

Parkman shrugged. "Anything is possible. Anyone else?"

"Yeah, they got a listed only by the code name Legion."

Matt's eyes lit up. "That's the guy. What do they have on him?"

"Legion has the power of merging other people with himself. Through this, he can take on others talents. He has an unknown amount, but they list telekinesis, dream manipulation, super strength, and pyrokinesis. Oh, scratch super strength. It says the person he absorbed was ripped through from him. Must be that woman, Nikki something."

"Nikki Sanders," Matt said, absently. "And they found DL, returned to his apartment."

'That's good," Hector said, continuing his search of the computer. "Here's a name that should interest you. Vann Shepard."

"Why should that interest me? I've never heard of it."

Hector smiled. "It says here that he's been alive since the Revolutionary War, and that the Company has him in a secure facility in…"

"Excuse me?" a sharp woman's voice asked. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Matt turned, expanding his mind to grasp the thoughts of the woman he found himself looking at. She was young, pretty, with long black hair and piercing eyes. She was dressed rather like a nurse, and she had a syringe in her hand with something in that didn't look particularly healthy. "Pardon me, AEA investigation going on. You're going to have to come with us," he said.

"AEA?" the woman asked. "What the hell is that?" _You going to pay dearly for coming in to my facility, _Matt heard her think.

Hector stood behind the desk. "The Advanced Evolution Agency, Miss. Now if you would, put down the syringe or I'm afraid it's going to get violent in here." He held his hand out, letting it spark.

The woman smiled. Matt knew in his heart that this was Julie Donovan, and that something bad was about to happen. He was right. The earth started to shake. Then, a massive chunk of frozen ground burst the floor, cutting the two agents off from her and the escape. Matt looked around. He was trapped in the fake hospital wing.

_**Legion**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

The surge that Sylar had given still had yet to wear off. Everywhere he went, things froze. He could hear a couple making out a mile away. Things he held sometime melted into unidentifiable puddles.

Now, Legion stood over another mutant, this one a young woman. She was slightly overweight and had incredibly bad acne. He smiled as she tried to run three feet about the ground. He held her telekinetically, and he planned on playing with this one. She would be good; she would enjoy the kiss. It would be her first, he thought. Then, she would be apart of him and his conquest against Peter Petrelli. After Peter, there was only one more member of the All Gift to acquire: Jon Baker.

He moved the girl about the air as if she were dancing, lowering her closer and closer to him and the last kiss goodbye. He, too, danced about the empty studio apartment. He'd already thrown everything out the window.

Sirens filled the air, killing his head. This damned super hearing was killing him. It was the only downside to absorbing Sylar. Headaches came so easily now. _"…First and Corinthian, apartment twelve…"_ a cop's radios blurted, and Legion forced himself not hear it. As it was, they were already on their way to here. He would have to finish this now. Next time, he wouldn't be so loud.

Legion pulled her inches away from his face. For one instant, when he could smell her fear and sweat, he thought about letting her go in peace. Then, his grin widened. "Give us a kiss," he whispered, and then he slammed his face into hers so hard their teeth cracked together. One of hers broke off and went flying into his mouth. He puckered, swallowing the tooth, and then merged with the poor girl.

Leaving only her pile of clothes, he took off, flying out the window. It was yet another gift from his once ally, Gabriel Gray.

_**Will Stone**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

Will stood on his roof, listening to the sounds of the night, smoking his last cigarette in his pack. His body ached from his nightly crusades against the villains of the lower east side and the slowly decaying neighborhoods filled with various criminals. He was amazed at how fast he grew control of his talents, using them now at such a speed that would astound Dr. Suresh. Already he could create several pitches from thin air, with out a wasted breath. The one he used most was a high pitched siren-like sound.

He heard two people behind him. They made no effort not to be heard, so he didn't turn around. "Will." It was his cousin, Gavin. "We want to talk to you."

"We were thinking." This one was Teagan. "Maybe we should just avoid the rally tomorrow. We could go see a movie or something, just the four of us."

"Yeah, I'd like that," Will said, surprised at how honest it was. He was tired of dealing with others who took the talents for granted. There was electricity in the air, like a war was coming. The way he saw it, it was time to choose sides. He'd chosen.

Teagan left without another word, but Gavin stared at the back of Will's head. "She may not want to bring it up, but I will," he said. "Mackenzie is worried about you, man. You're gone most of the night, now, and you come back tired and covered in bruises and scrapes. Just what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm taking sides," Will said. "Someone's got to help out here, and I'm the only one willing, I guess."

There was a silence that followed this. Will supposed that Gavin was trying to figure out what it was exactly that he'd said. When he turned around, he was shocked to see the determination on Gavin's face.

"The next time you go out to fight crime, or whatever it is you're doing, I'm coming with you," he said, his voice full of the same grim stubbornness that was on his face. "You can't do it all alone."

Will smiled, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he had a family. He knew that Mackenzie loved him, and he loved her, but now, he had a brother. It was a good feeling.

_**Michael Gray**_

_**Bucharest, Romania**_

His team moved into position. Elle and Wyrm would take out any guards that inhibit their escape route, while he and Noel would go in. Wyrm was instructed to send them two miles south of here, more than likely leading to their confusion, or so Michael hoped.

Noel led him up next to the stone wall and she put her hand there, testing it out before she attempted to phase them through. When an arc of lightening shot up in the air, Noel knew that it was time to begin. She grabbed Michael's hand and dragged him through the wall.

It was a made rush to the center of the facility, and by the time they got there, three guards were down, with several more outside the facility, and a good number of them far away.

The cell in which eh was held was made of thick, steel walls, very different than the stones ones everywhere else, but Noel just ripped through this one, too, dragging Michael with her.

He was there, inside, just as Michael knew he would be. He'd aged little sense the last time he'd seen the man who would be his Michael's mentor. He sat with his legs bent upward, his arms stretched across his knees, and his head and hands drooped. Long blonde hair hung over his attractive face, hiding what Michael knew were eyes that seemed every shade under the sun. His nose was slightly bent from an injury before his manifestation, and before he met Alphonse, long ago, in a different world. He was dressed in the drab jumpsuit that every Company prisoner was forced to wear. On his neck were the two marks of every one who was forced to comply with the Company's requests, even though he could easily get rid of them.

When he looked up, Michael saw Noel's knees weaken from one look into those deep ever changing eyes, the eyes of a man meant to love. He wasn't a religious man, like Alphonse, or Political, like Elijah, but he almost scientific in nature. He had been a poet, many years ago, wanting to write about the brave soldiers who fought for this country. He'd been there since the beginning, and would be there at the end.

Most of all, Michael loved him, more than anyone else, alive or dead. He whispered, reverently. "Vann."

The man nodded, stood, and took both Noel and Michael by the hand, and took flight, activating Noel's phasing ability as they hit the roof.


	16. Battle for Seattle

_(A/N – This is a really long chapter, originally split into two, but it seemed to me that it work better if I just ran through both of them in one go. Thus, we have the entire fight in Seattle. Thanks again for all the reviews, and please, enjoy.)_

_**Legion**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

It was somehow less than he expected. It would be too hard to try and pick off Mutants at the rally, where they were all clumped together. So, Legion had wandered off, waiting for one of them to leave. But then, what do we have here? A lonely little mutant girl off on her own on such a dark night. Legion smiled from his hiding hole in the shadows. He reached out to her, using the talent of Maury Parkman, only days away from permanent absorption, and caught her name, _Teagan._ The red haired mutant couldn't stop thinking about a woman named Mackenzie. She was, in a word, distracted. Legion crept towards her as she plugged her PIN into an ATM.

"Give us a kiss," he said, whispering in her ear. She spun around, sending out a jet of fire, setting fire to his favorite jacket. He cooled the air around him, nearly freezing the girl in place while he dealt with it. "You are so going to pay for that."

Her right fist collided with his jaw, breaking one of his teeth. That was something he didn't know whether it would grow back or not. He threw her into the ATM telekinetically, cursing. He had to give her credit; she had spirit. He liked them that way.

Legion reached out, caressing her cheek gently. "Oh, you're so pretty. We bet you'd taste just like peaches," he said, not even aware he was speaking.

It hit him like a freight train. A loud, piercing noise that made him think of car alarms. Dogs started barking and it threw him into confusion. Legion spun around, catching sight of a young dark blonde man throwing his arm forward and shouting. Then, he was thrown into the brick wall of the bank. He heard something shatter inside his chest, but feeling it was so much worse. The world went black.

He woke, a few seconds later, and spotted the man helping Teagan away. Still linked with her, Legion caught the name _Will _float through her mind. Legion smiled. This was going to be a good night.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

Claire ran through airport, and he nearly lost her in the crowd. Without the nullification bracelet, Peter would have lost it. There were mutants everywhere, coming in for the Rally. He tightened his grip on Claire's hand and she dragged him through the mass of bodies, each one with a talent of their own.

He moved stiffly, afraid of jostling the bracelet and breaking it. He knew in his heart that if he lost it, he would explode, either from someone's ability or just so many coming in at once. For the second time in his life, he was truly scared.

The first time, a little over four months ago, he'd nearly exploded. He could see the world shimmer in and out of focus and fell from the sky. The world did explode, at least for him, and as he plunged, he wondered who he killed. Probably nobody in New York, but Nathan had been right there with him.

Peter had landed in water, and prayed that he'd drown. He couldn't live without Nathan. Now, here was doing the same thing to Claire. He should have left her in New York, or, even better, he should have stood with Nathan and kept both of them there. Leave this stuff to the professionals. There were professionals now. But Claire insisted that this Legion guy would come after him anyway, and that she was in danger because she knew him, because she was there in Toronto. He knew it was true, but still, Nathan or Noah could have done a better job of protecting her.

Finally, Claire pulled Peter through the door and Peter sucked in the air in deep breaths, trying to soothe his nerves. He hunched over, hands on his knees like he was going to vomit, and he wheezed. When he looked up, he saw disappointment in Claire's eyes which was quickly replaced with concern. "You don't have to do this," she said.

He lowered his eyes; all of a sudden, he couldn't look her in hers. What the hell had happened to him? "Claire, this was a mistake. We shouldn't have come here. Come on, we can still make it back, if we go now. Hell, I fly you back to New York, if we can just leave now," Peter pleaded with her.

Claire's face filled with disgust. "When did you become so afraid to face what's coming?" she asked bluntly. Somewhere along the lines, she'd learned to use words like a weapon. She was already like Heidi. "I remember, before the explosion, you were afraid then too, but you still fought. You said no one else would do it."

"There are people who will, now," Peter said. He could almost hear the whining in his own voice. "It's not up to us now."

Claire shook her head. "If you don't want to fight, that's fine." The disappointment came back in her eyes, flooding them. "I will, alone if I have to." She turned away from him and went off into the night air.

"Claire, come back!" Peter shouted. Once again, he was near begging. Something broke in him. He couldn't just leave her out there, to fend for herself. She may heal extraordinarily fast, but she still wasn't old enough to fight off a full grown man with far more capabilities than her. Peter sucked in another lungful for air and took off after her.

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Nome, Alaska**_

He didn't know how much air they still had left in this small wing, but he was determined to make the best of it. Matt tried calling to HQ, but his cell wouldn't receive a signal. The terminal that Hector was on didn't have Internet access, so e-mail was out. But he still had a secret weapon. If only Molly would try to find him, he could make the connection.

"I've got it!" Ortega called out. "The file on Julie Donovan!" Matt ran over to see this. It listed her talent as earth manipulation, which explained the sudden stalagmites in the medic wing. "Yeah, that's interesting, too," Hector said when Matt pointed this out to him. "Look at this though. She has a brother, a _twin _brother, by the name of James. It says here he can manipulate metal, and runs another facility outside Bucharest That's where the Company is holding that Vann guy."

True. Matt had to give him that. Anything in their computer's was suspect, which meant he had to interrogate Peter Petrelli, maybe break into his mind and see what he could force out of him. Nathan wouldn't like that.

From somewhere above them, the sounds of explosions echoed through the Nome Facility. A red light started to flash over the terminal. "That can't be good," Hector said, standing. He pulled something out his pocked and plugged it into the computer. He started clicking away on the keys, twitching the mouse. He finally seemed to be worried about their situation.

"What is that?" Matt asked.

"Flash drive," Hector said, not looking up. "I'm taking as much information as I can when we bust out of here." A light on the flash drive lit up, red as well as the warning light. "Ha! Got it. Everything on they have on Peter Petrelli, the other All-Gift program members, this facility, and the one in Bucharest is now on here." He stuffed it back in his pocket.

"Good to know, but it's kind of worthless if we can't get out of here," Matt said.

Hector nodded. "I know, but I told you, I saw everything on this facility, including full schematics. It seems as if there's a dumbwaiter around here. Start checking the walls."

The dumbwaiter was a good idea, but useless. As Hector finished talking, the stones blocking them in exploded, and the place was stormed by armed guards. Matt and Hector did the only reasonable thing: they surrendered. The guards took their sidearms.

Julie entered soon after, smiling. She pointed at Hector, and then two of the guards cracked the butt of their guns into the back of Matt and Hector's head, knocking both of them unconscious.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle, Washington**_

Hiro was too late to stop the massacre. When he teleported into the building, he found himself standing amongst the victims of a gunman, found himself in the middle of a gun fight. He leapt over the counter, taking refuge with two agents he found there. He shut his eyes, trying to freeze time, but it didn't work. He realized then, that he left his sword behind, in Tokyo.

One of the agents, a tall, muscular blonde man fired a shotgun over the counter. Hiro heard the sound of granite shattering, followed by the Agent's cursing. The Agent had missed. The other Agent, a young woman with almost red hair tried again and again to manifest her own talent. Neither of them noticed Hiro now crouched among them until he spoke. "Hello?"

Their eyes went wild. The male Agent threw him through an open door into an office. Hiro heard the female Agent shouting, "Give up, Samael!" as someone helped him off of the floor. Hiro looked up into the eyes of a Doctor Mohinder Suresh.

"You're talents are useless here," Suresh told Hiro in confidence. "Samuel's talent is to disrupt the abilities of others."

Another man, one Hiro didn't recognize, sat in the corner, typing on a laptop. "He shot and killed four people before the agents got here, and three more since then," he said, although it didn't seem as if he were talking to anybody in particular.

Hiro sighed, taking cover from the shots of the mad gunman. He was too late, and now, there was no getting out.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

She was now irrevocably lost in what seemed like a rundown neighborhood. How she wished she went back to Peter when he called out to her, but that time had passed. Claire made her way down India Street, looking for any sign that could lead her either back to the airport or to the nearest Hart Center.

Her prayers were answered, just not in the way she expected. A group of people came running around the corner, knocking her over. Two men and two women, all of them young, and when she fell, the youngest male leaned down to help her up.

"Gavin!" the other man shouted. "We don't have time!"

Gavin, it seemed, had found something more interesting than running down the street. Claire's knee was bloody from the fall; a piece of a broken beer bottle jutting out of it. She tugged it out, and watched as Gavin couldn't take his eyes of her skin knitting itself back together. "We need to take her with us, Will. She's one of us," Gavin said.

"What the hell do you mean?" the red haired woman asked. She sounded incredibly enraged, and Claire was astounded to see her hands burst into flame.

Gavin turned to his group. "She has a gift. You know that's what this guy is after." He helped Claire to her feet. "People with gifts."

Will nodded. "Fine, just get a move on it."  
The five of them ran, for no apparent reason other than someone was out there looking for people with gifts…. It came to Claire, and she stopped so suddenly she almost fell again. "What do you mean someone after people with gifts?" Will and Gavin turned around with looks on their faces that almost made the blonde woman laugh. "You mean like Sylar?"

Will shook his head. "Worse."  
She knew it. Legion was here, after all, and hunting for abilities the way Sylar once did. "We have to find my uncle. He's the only one who can help us."

A car came flying from the direction the group had come running from, crashing into the intersection and skidding off. Will shook his head. "There's no time. We need to hide, now."

Will kicked the door of an abandoned building and led the other four inside. The red haired woman immediately took off for the bathroom, and Gavin and Will to barricade the door. The blonde woman led Claire off to desolate living room that smelled of rot and mold. An old couch stood against the wall, with a rat sitting on it, eating what looked like it could have once been a bowl of spaghetti. Claire nearly vomited.

"My name's Mackenzie Wilkes," she said sweetly. "And you are?"

"Claire Bennet. What's going on here?"

"Will brought Teagan, my sister, home. He said she'd been attacked. Soon after, the guy burst into our apartment and we ran. That's all I know."

Claire tried to get a picture of the people she was with. Mackenzie seemed either ill or old, judging by the bags under her eyes. She guessed that the red haired woman was Teagan. Mackenzie was obviously dating one of the guys, and judging just by age, Claire put her money on Will. It was also hope. Gavin was kind of cute.

Once again, she nearly vomited. How could she be in a situation like this and think about boys?

Teagan came out of the bathroom, holding a flaming shower rod. "We'll make a stand right here," she said, fiercly.

She conferred with the two boys, and Claire looked back at Mackenzie. The woman was crying, and Claire went to comfort her. "What's wrong?"

Mackenzie turned away. "Just go help. I'll be right here, waiting."

Claire left Mackenzie to her tears with hurt feelings. What did she do? She looked out of a window once, hoping on the first star she saw that Peter would come rescue them.

_**Molly Walker**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle, Washington**_

In the main offices, the Hart Center was at war, being slowly demolished by bullets. In one small backroom, Molly knelt over her map, trying to get a lock on Matt Parkman. He would come and save her, if he could. Otherwise, at least she would have someone to talk to.

He was there, in Nome, Alaska, but something was wrong. He wasn't answering.

She tried his partner, Hector Ortega. Still, he was in Nome, but he wasn't awake.

Something was definitely wrong.

For the first time in a long time, Molly felt like crying, but she didn't give up. She stayed focused on the spot where she knew Matt was. Soon, he would answer. He had to. He promised.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

He thought he was afraid before. Now, he was terrified. Claire was gone, and he couldn't find her. Peter continued down the street, checking every window, every back alley, for any sign of his niece. She had to be around here somewhere.

"Superman?" he heard a very familiar voice. Peter spun around and stared into the face of Jon Baker. He was lit up like a Christmas tree, blue sparks flying off him rapidly. Every part of him glowed in the dark. "Is that you? It's hard to see," he said, sounding awful pathetic.

"What happened, Jon?" Peter asked, know petrified. What was he going to do?

An arc of blue energy streaked off of Jon, connecting with a power line. Peter couldn't tell which way the power was going, but he thought it was going into Jon. "I can't shut it off, Superman," he said, verging on tears. "If I don't discharge, I could explode or… or…"

"What do you mean explode?" The image of himself glowing radioactively in Kirby Plaza burnt itself in Peter's mind. This was too similar.

"I absorbed too much energy, trying to help save the day, but now it won't stop coming in, and I can't stop it!" Another arc, this time hitting a transformer and the entire neighborhood went dark, except for Jon.

Peter knew what he had to do. Nathan did if for him, now it was his turn. He stepped up to Jon, wrapped his arms around him, and took off into the sky. The energy continued to burn holes in his skin and thanks to Claire, they healed instantly, only to be burned again.

They were well above Seattle when Jon pushed Peter away. His entire body now radiated that glorious blue. "I can do it from here, Peter." It was the first time Jon called him by name, and then he was gone, leaving a streak of blue in his wake.

Jon was flying solo, headed east. Peter smiled when he thought of the faces of people who saw that streak and didn't know what it meant.

_**Will Stone**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

Now they had one more person to worry about, and the guy was closing in. There was only one choice of action. "Gavin, get Mackenzie out of here. Take them all."

"And what are you going to do? I'm not letting you do this on your own," Teagan said. "This isn't just your fight, you know. I owe this guy a few good punches, and I'm not willing to let you have all the fun."

"There won't be a fight," Will said. "I'm bringing the building down. Just get out."

Gavin nodded and wrapped himself in darkness. He pulled Teagan, Mackenzie, and Claire into it, sneaking them out the back as the guy broke through the front. "Just the one morsel, then" he asked himself.

Will struggled to remember what Claire had called him only moments ago. _Legion, that was it._ _Well, there really was no time for banter, so here goes nothing…_

The first shockwave tore through the front wall, littering it with debris. The building now hung open, waiting for the world to come inside. Legion was reeling, and Will knew what to do. He moved in rapidly, slamming both fists into the side of the man's head. With one hand, he grabbed a hold of Legion's ear and twisted until it ripped.

As soon as he let it go, he saw Legion's flesh knit itself together again. "That's another one for you," Will said, then dodged out of the way from a jet a flame.

Will let out another shockwave, this one small and compact, and it bent Legion's right knee the other way. Pain seared itself across Legion's face, and Will delighted in hurting him. He can be hurt after all. Will started unleashing several shockwaves into the floor, hoping to destroy the foundation, but none of them penetrated so far. He collapsed, wasted.

Legion stood over Will, grinning and showing off his rotting, broken teeth. "Is this why you fought? To buy time for the others. When we finish with you, we will hunt them like rats, and we shall be even so joyous when we hear their screams of mercy before we meld with them. And it will be for you, Will, all for you. Oh, and for the one of that isn't talented, we shall have ever so much more fun with her, delighting in hours of entertainment as we make her suffer…"

Teagan leapt from the stairs, slamming both of her elbows into the side of Legion's face. Teeth feel freely from his gaping mouth, and Will heard the demented man's nose snap like twigs in the forest. He lowered his head, trying to regain his composure before continuing the fight with Legion.

When Will looked up, he saw Teagan tearing into Legion with burning hands and feet. She'd taken several self-defense classes, and now they were paying off. Each blow had the added effect of burning the man. The smell of burnt hair came to Will's nose and it worked like smelling salts never could. This was real, and it was time to act.

He was on his feet and charging as Legion finally overcame Teagan, throwing her through the house and out onto the street. Will slammed a shockwave into Legion's chest from inches away, sending him flying into the building across the street.

Will collapsed again. This time, the world wavered at the edges, threatening to fill it with darkness. Teagan was at his side, helping him up. She carried him through the back of the building, and joined with Claire, Mackenzie, and Gavin.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

Peter landed as Legion was crawling from the wreckage. He felt the pull of the man as he tried to take off into flight. Instead, Legion crumpled into a ball. An arc of blue energy leapt from Legion to Peter, and people fell out of the arc, among them, the killer known as Sylar. The others scattered, except for Sylar, who lay unconscious on the cement.

Legion frowned at Peter, and then ran into the darkness.

Scared, Peter looked down at his bracelet. Its LED screen was black. Push it even further; a blue spark flew from his skin.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle, Washington**_

He saw what he needed moments before the next round of gunshots. A window. Slowly, he pushed it open, careful to avoid the flying bullets. Then, he lifted himself up and out the window. Hiro plunged into the night air, ten stories above ground. He shut his eyes and focused on the one spot he needed to be.

He teleported just before he hit the ground.

He was back in the lobby of the Seattle Hart Center, somewhere behind the gunman. Hiro saw him, firing at the same counter he had hidden behind. No one seemed to notice he was gone.

Hiro charged the gunman, carrying a vase from one of the table now littering the floor. He slammed it into the gunman's head, knocking him out.

"It's okay!" Hiro called out to the Agents. They sprang over the counter, cuffing Samael.

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**New York, New York**_

The news blurted to life as he sat on the couch with Heidi. The scenes were devastating. Seattle had been viciously attacked by several people. Rumor had it that someone captured the killer Sylar during a melee in downtown Seattle, and that another killer had opened fire in a Hart Center, killing as many as seven people so far. Another rumor stated that bodies were being found stabbed and cut open in several of the Center's offices on the bottom floors. Buildings were now missing, people were now missing, and the whole damn place was in a state of emergency.

Nathan felt a hand on his shoulder and he nearly leapt up screaming. He turned to his wife, her face whiter than the walls. She nodded. "Go bring them home."

He was gone before she finished, flying through the skylight they'd installed just before the election.


	17. Aftermath

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Over Seattle, Washington**_

He landed on the Hart Center at precisely one-thirty am. Mohinder was waiting for him there. "Dr. Suresh, how bad is it?" he asked.

Mohinder looked sick. "Seven dead, nearly twenty injured, and that's just the art Center incident. I hear there's been more attacks all over the Seattle area. We've made contact with your daughter, She's safe, with four others. She's says they were attacked by Legion. Peter made a call into us fifteen minutes ago, but the news teams were the first to arrive. An entire building collapsed nearby, and they found him with Sylar. He said for you to meet him back in New York. He said he's in trouble, and that you're to come alone to see him."

Nathan frowned. There was only one thing that could be troubling Peter so severely: the loss of his negation bracelet. "Peter can wait. What about things here?"

Mohinder nodded, and the two of them walked to the elevator to take them inside. "We've caught the killer known as Samael. As it turns out, he's not as pure as he thought he was. He manifested an ability that nearly shut us down. If it wasn't for Hiro Nakamura, we'd all be dead or well on our way.  
"We've sent out a crew to pick up your daughter and the other survivors with her. They should be arriving soon.

"Agent Frost and Agent Tisdale are waiting to make their report to you or Mr. Bennet about their search for Samael.

"Agent Parkman is currently MIA with his new partner, chasing down leads on the Prometheus Group…"

"Wait," Nathan said, stepping out of the elevator. "He's the one on the Prometheus case?" Mohinder nodded. "What happened to Sylar? I thought he was assigned to that case?"

Dr. Suresh shrugged. "It seemed more important to bring down this group. Who knows what they're capable of? Besides, he was just working out a case file to give to an agent. It was on orders from Mr. Bennet."

Nathan walked away from Mohinder, entering one of the field offices. He had too many questions, and he felt like yelling, but Mohinder deserved better treatment than that. He sat on the bed of the office, put his face in hands and concentrated. Claire was supposed to stay with Peter. Parkman was supposed to be hunting Sylar. Peter and Nathan were supposed to be hunting Prometheus. Hiro was supposed to be hunting his father's killers. What the hell happened?

The door opened and a young male intern poked his head in. "Claire has arrived."

"Send her in here, please," Nathan said, not looking up.

A few seconds later, Claire herself came in and sat next to Nathan. There room filled with heavy silence. When he looked up, Claire's eyes were filled with tears. "What happened? Why weren't you with Peter?" he asked.

Claire looked away. Something had happened between them, and she didn't want to face up to it. Damn it! He had to know why their brilliant plan had fallen to pieces. If he'd have known that this was how it was going to end up, he never would have allowed Claire to go at all, and without Claire, Peter never would have gone at all. He was going to have to keep them separated, so they didn't put any more crazy ideas in each others heads. Sure he gained a daughter, but now it was like he was trying to keep her away from her dangerous boyfriend. It shouldn't be like this.

"You can't go in there…" a voice said outside the little office, but the door opened anyway, and in walked a little Japanese man Nathan knew well. He stood and reached out his hand to shake with him.

"Hiro," he said.

"Flying man," Hiro said, shaking Nathan's hand.

"Whatever it is you want, please make it quick," Nathan said. He looked at Claire. "I have a little bit of family situation on my hands. I have to get back to New York and find my brother."

"Peter Petrelli," Hiro said. "I must speak with him about Prometheus Group. He knows something, and my father's killer is connected with the Group."

Nathan spun towards Hiro, his mind racing. What the hell was up with Prometheus Group that it affected people half way around the world? Everything was connected. Well that is it. He couldn't take it anymore. "No," he said, quietly first. "No more connections. I just want to be left alone to deal with my family! I never wanted to take care of the world!" He was yelling now, his fists curled into balls. He calmed himself at the sight of Claire and Hiro's faces. "If you want to talk Prometheus, you can do it later, at the house. Peter will be there, and so will I. I have an idea that a few more people will be joining us by then. Five days from now, come to the house, and will put it all on the table, okay?"

Hiro nodded, before squinting his eyes and teleporting out to God no's where.

Nathan turned back to Claire. "We're heading home, tonight, and you will tell me why you were out on you own, hunting some psychopath!"

Claire nodded.

_**Hector Ortega**_

_**Nome, Alaska**_

He stood slowly, a throbbing pain in his head made everything a little wobbly. When he finally opened his eyes, he found that he was still in the little mock-hospital wing. Matt was gone.

Hector did a check of himself and found that he still had all of his gear. They even left his sidearm. More importantly, they left the flash drive. Stupid people. He stepped out through the exploded rock and into a hallway. He found another one freshly made by explosions, and he took that one, hoping to find Parkman.

The tunnel led to a high tech laboratory that reminded Ortega of Castle Frankenstein. He heard voices calling him from rows of test tubes and jars lined up along one wall. He saw a number of brains and other body parts, all stewing in formaldehyde. He crept slowly passed the shelves and made his way to a small office on the far side of the lab.

Inside, he could hear people talking, and identified one of them as Julie Davenport. The other voice sound oddly distant, and Hector assumed it was coming from a speaker phone.

"Should we proceed with the removal?" she asked.

"Yes," came the distant voice. "I would also recommend going back for the other one and running some tests on him. Who knows, maybe Prometheus would like a part of that man's body as well."

"Very well, James," Julie said. "I'll see you soon." Then, he heard the sound of the dial tone before Julie hung up.

When Hector heard the mechanical sound of a bone saw starting up, he flung himself through the door and launched an arc of electricity that crashed into Julie Davenport. She flew backwards into another shelf of jars.

Matt Parkman moved at Hectors attack on Julie, but didn't really wake up. Standing there, in the doorway of the office, Ortega felt truly creeped out. Parkman was strapped to a medical bed, head and all, with a dotted line around his forehead. The bone saw hung from the ceiling, still spinning until Hector turned it off to end the sound of it's furious spinning. He quickly freed Parkman and helped carry him out of the room and eventually, out of the facility.

Hector was loading him into their rented car when Matt woke up. He asked groggily where they were, and Hector told him. There were no secrets between partners. "We made it out with the intel, Parkman," he said. "That's all that matters right now."  
Ortega drove to the airport, smiling. This was going to make his career.

_**Will Stone**_

_**Location, Unknown**_

"Uh, where am I?" he asked, half awake. He was aware that he was lying down; that if he looked ahead, or up as it was, he could see Mackenzie's face looking down on him; that they were moving incredibly fast.

:"We're getting out of here," Mackenzie said. "We're leaving Washington behind."  
"Seeking out greener pastures," Teagan added. "The only place we'll fit in; New York City."

Will tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness flooded his head, forcing him to stay down. He was so very tired. Never before had he felt so damned drained.

Mackenzie put her hand on his forehead. It was cold, so very cold, and he could barely stand it. "Just rest easy, love," she said. "You nearly killed yourself. You've been out for nearly almost a whole day."

"What?" he asked, shooting up and looking out of the car window. The sun was going down behind them, and the place outside was not Washington. "Where are we?"

"Almost into Wyoming," Gavin said from the driver's seat. "I couldn't leave you three in Seattle, not with that deranged lunatic on the loose."

"Yeah, what was with that guy?" Teagan asked.

Mackenzie forced Will to lie back down. "You need to rest, build up your strength. Dr. Suresh said so."

"Suresh?" Will asked, already half asleep. He never heard the answer.

_**Heidi Petrelli**_

_**Peter's Apartment, New York**_

He wasn't alone, not quite, but Peter had nothing to fear from either of the people with him. He'd already absorbed Claire's ability twice, and Heidi didn't have one. So why wouldn't he open the door?

"Come on, Peter," Nathan called through the door. "You know you're safe with us. Just let us in and we'll talk."

"I told you to come alone!" Peter yelled through the door.

Heidi pushed Nathan out of the way. She knew he only wanted to help, but maybe he wasn't the best person for it. "Peter, how about just me?"

Nathan looked at her, accusingly, but she just stared resolutely at the door. Peter didn't answer right away; he was considering it. Claire stood as far as she could from Nathan, nearly hiding around the corner. Something was going on, and Nathan could stop it alone. Maybe, just maybe, this called for someone without a gift at all.

"Tell Claire to wait downstairs," Peter called out. "Nathan, take her away from here!"

Claire reacted as if she'd been slapped, but she didn't cry. Not yet, anyway. Heidi decided that if Claire couldn't hash it out with Peter, she would do it for her. She watched as Nathan put an arm around Claire and led her away. "I call you as soon as I can," Heidi said, before the pair got on the elevator. Then, to Peter, she said, "They're gone now." The door's lock clicked and opened.

What stood before Heidi wasn't the Peter she knew. He was dirty and unshaven. He was an utter mess. He wouldn't look her in the eyes, and a number of blue sparks flew off of him. She pushed her way into the apartment and was unsurprised when he locked the door behind her.

"Pete, just what the hell is this about?" she turned, ready to use the blade of a tongue she had to tear Peter back down to size. "She looks up to you! Hell, she already loves you! You're her uncle, and you need to treat her better!"

"It's not her I want to hurt," Pete said, near tears. "But I will if she comes around me. I can't help it." He looked up, for the first time meeting her eyes, searching for something in her that she didn't know if she had. "Nathan told you everything, right?" She nodded. "About my, my ability?" She nodded again. She had the basics of it, anyway.

"What is this about, Peter?" She could smell something bad, and it scared her. This was something she wouldn't be able to deal with alone. She didn't think Nathan could either.

"I've absorbed another power, and this one is worse," Pete said, turning away and headed for the kitchen. "Now, I take in different kinds of energy. It stores itself up inside of me, somewhere, and I spark. It can be discharged, but I don't now how. That's why I've shut the electricity off. I've stayed out of the sun. I need to stay away from her, and probably Nathan, too."

Heidi sat down on the couch. "Why would you have to stay away from them?"

Peter threw her a glance, one that chilled her to the bone. She saw images in her head that scared the hell out of her. She was in over her head. "Heidi, I've seen what happens if I don't discharge. I stopped that guy from exploding, but I could do it. I almost did before, if it wasn't for Nathan…"

"Wait, what?" Heidi said, stopping him. She'd never heard what happened that night, just that Peter almost blew up New York accidentally, and Nathan stopped it. Up until now, it had been good enough. "What happened that night, Peter?"  
"I thought you said he told you everything?" It was hint of the old Pete, fun loving Pete. Then, he shook it away. "It doesn't matter. The point is, I'm charging up energy, and I've recognized several of their sources. Solar, electric, and the energy produced when someone activates an ability. With Claire around, it's always on. As far as I know, it would reverse itself to the point where all of her old injuries come back, twice as painful. I won't put her through that."  
"Instead, you hide up here, making us all think you've snapped?" Heidi asked. She was tired of feeling afraid. It was clear what she must do, and she'd do it soon. As soon as she had a plan. "You're going to leave this apartment, Pete. I'll see to it."

She stood and stormed out of his apartment, dialing as she headed towards the elevator. She'd fill Nathan in on the way down, and together, they'd tell Claire. Then, she'd force Nathan to tell her everything that happened November 8th, 2006.


	18. Extent of His Heart

_**Adam Munroe**_

_**Hart Center, New York, New York**_

He sat in the chair once taken by the late Bob Bishop, Noah across from him, waiting to see what he would do. Adam smiled, gently, and polished the muzzle of his gun. "Such a waste," he said to himself.

"What are you doing here, Adam?"

"I thought it was painfully obvious what I'm doing," he said, paying more attention to the gun. Adam motioned to the body of Bob. "I'm freeing the world of the Company, the last organization to oppose Prometheus. It's you I don't what to do with."

Adam watched Noah out of the corner of his eye. There was confusion behind his glasses. He struggled to decide whether it was worth it to go for his own gun. Adam's smile grew.

"You used to work for the Company, and now you work for the Agency," he said. "What am I to do with you?"

"Leave," Noah said. "Nobody needs to know you were here. I'll take the wrap for this, and you can go back to doing what ever it is since you left the Company."

"And what is this, one last bone to your old boss? I think not. I happen to know that your own Agents went on a hunt through out facility in Nome. I'm sure you'll be receiving a report soon. Until then, you can't be trusted."

Adam moved quickly, but not quick enough to stop Noah from putting a bullet in his left shoulder. Adam didn't miss. The bullet caught Noah in the right eye, putting him down for good.

"Goodbye, old friend," he said, leaving the small office. Soon it would be swarming with agents, and he wanted to be back in the air before they even notice their beloved leader was dead.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Hart Center, New York**_

He teleported into the office as the door shut. Squinting, Hiro stopped time and walked out to see the killer. When he pulled open the door though, everything jumped back into regular speed. A blonde man was walking away, tucking a gun into his jacket. There was nobody else in the lobby outside Mr. Bennet's office.

Thinking back to his little tour of Ando's office, Hiro ran to the desk and slapped the underside button, setting off the alarm. Hopefully, they would catch the man on the way to check it out. He, on the other hand, had to get to the files that the poor deceased man left.

He teleported up three floors to the security rooms. Locked box and after locked box lined the four walls. One of the boxes, small and almost unnoticeable on its own, stood opened, the lock melted away. The files were gone. He was once more, too late.

Hiro teleported back to Tokyo with a sigh to find out the next little stop on this runaway train to the end of the world.

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**New York, New York**_

He stood outside their door, wondering if this was such a good idea. How could he ask a kid to do something for the Agency, especially when he just got his family back together? This was going to be hard, but he had to do it for Pete. He knocked on the door.

A tall black man answered. Nathan recognized him from reports. DL Hawkins. Now the questions would come. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Nathan said, wondering how crazy he was going to sound. "I need to speak with Micah about something." He stuck his hand in his pocket, running a finger over the smooth metal surface of Pete's negation bracelet. If anybody could fix, Micah Sanders could. He waited for DL to ask more questions. Instead, he let Nathan inside and led him to the living room.

"Just a minute," DL said, before walking off down the hall. Nathan heard him talking to Micah and prayed that this worked. DL came back with Micah. "Can I get you some coffee, Mr. Petrelli?"

"Yes, please," he said, looking at Micah. "And it's Nathan."  
DL went into the kitchen. It was Micah who seemed wary of Nathan. "What do you want?" he asked, a little snide. Nathan understood. Micah was upset because they had promised to find his father, and then DL had turned up without any Agency help. They also held Nikki for questioning for two days, and eventually let her go, but she had to meet with someone from the Agency every week to make sure she was okay.

Nathan pulled out the bracelet and handed it to Micah. "I wanted to see if you would do me a favor. If you could tell me what's wrong with this thing, it would help tremendously."

Micah moved around his hand for a minute and then gave it back. "Too easy," he said. "The batteries are dead. Let me know if you get something hard."  
"That's it?" Nathan asked, unbelieving but he knew Micah was right. It just backed up Peter's story about Jon's gift. It sucked the power right out of the batteries.

Micah nodded. "That's it."

Nathan thanked him and left, prying open the battery hatch on the underside of the bracelet. Double-A. Could this be any easier? A few double-A's and he had his brother back. This was turning out to be a good day, after all.

_**Dwight Berkley**_

_**New York, New York**_

Berk woke up to the sound of seagulls. His head ached and a fire burned in his chest. Once again, he woke up shirtless and with a massive hole in the seat of his pants. His shoes were gone, along with his wire-frame glasses. They were his third pair this week, and it was only Tuesday.

Jesus! It was cold. He wrapped his arms around him and stood up. He nearly collapsed when he found out where he was. The ground was a long distance away. The vertigo would have killed him. The city was recognizable, even from this angle, as New York City. It beat the hell out of where he found himself yesterday, deep in the heart of some forgotten jungle.

Whatever building he was on, this was surely the highest he would ever let himself be. He hated heights. He made his way to the center of the building, taking his surroundings. The place seemed familiar to him, even though he'd never been here before. He struggled to remember.

Ah, yes, this is where that guy Petrelli sometimes gives his interviews before he flies of to do this or that. Whatever it is the Muties do during the day. He had his own work to do, back at his own lab, out in Albany. How the hell did he end up here?

Berk looked down at his chest, astounded to see scars knitting his stomach. Something big had happened to him last night, if only he could remember what. _Maybe, _he thought, _it's time to get tested. Why else would you be at the Hart Center?_ It made sense, but first, he'd have to find new pants and a shirt.

Something landed on the roof behind him, and he was loathe to turn around. He didn't want to be seen like this, half naked, with hole in his butt the size of a small country. He was a man of science, and this was frat boy stuff. He turned anyway.

It wasn't the flying director of the Agency. This man was tall and almost pretty, with blonde hair. His eyes shimmered like the colors in a kaleidoscope, even though Berk knew it was impossible. He was dressed in blue jeans, hiking boots, and a white tee shirt. He carried a bag, and when he saw Berk, he threw it to him. "Clothes," he said.

"Who are you?" Berk asked.

"A friend," the stranger said. "Most call me Vann. Now, please get dressed so we can meet with the others."

"What others?"

"The Others."

Vann said no more, but turned around to give Berk a small amount of privacy, the most a man on the roof a building can get. Berk opened the bag and pulled out the clothes; jeans and a button-up shirt. It was amazing that this stranger got his size perfect. He wondered how this guy knew where he was. It was as if they were tracking him. What did he have to offer them, these others?

Berk dressed himself slowly, moving like he was in a dream. A sense of surrealism hit him hard and he had to wonder if he died last night. That didn't explain why he woke in a jungle yesterday, or in ancient ruins the day before. Vann did something to him; that had to be it. "What do you want from me?" he asked, turning around

"Only for you to be safe," Vann said, looking off into the horizon. "There's a war coming, and we need every man, woman, and child to be ready, especially one of your gifts. Once you learn to control them, anyway."  
"You're not making any sense."

"Not yet, but I'm afraid I will make all the sense in the world, in time." Vann set his eyes on Berk, and the scientist felt cowered and humble before the Mutie. "You will learn to fear it, too."

Vann lunged at Berk, and for one second, he thought Vann pushed him to his death. Instead, he found himself held in Vann's arms as they flew over the city. He shut his eyes, waiting for the ground to rush up and meet him, hard, but it never happened. "Where are we going?"

"Home, to Bucharest."

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Hart Center, New York**_

How could things go so bad, so fast? How was he going to tell Claire that her dad was dead, that she only had him now? In his mind, he knew he never could. He would, but it would kill him. Thank God Heidi had offered to take care of Peter during his little crisis. That left this to Nathan, and that was all he had riding on his shoulders; it was enough.

People moved around him as he stood in the Agent's bullpen. Everyone seemed to have something important to do, not looking directly at Nathan. He knew what they all wanted, to catch the guy who attacked in their stadium, their home field. Again, it was enough.

Nathan stood at the desk of Agent Matt Parkman, waiting for him to come in from where ever the hell he's been. He's got a lot to explain, like why he abandoned the hunt for Sylar, and why he didn't mention anything about Prometheus in any reports since that one or any before it. It was like all of a sudden, the entire world started looking into this one group, shining a light directly on Nathan's inadequacy to defend the world from people with abilities. No matter what Matt said, it wasn't going to be enough.

Parkman came in around noon, with Ortega right behind him. They both looked like two over-sugared hamsters. They chittered to each other quickly and in hushed tones, but Nathan could intuit the subject. It was after all the subject of the century; the Prometheus Group. "Hello, boys," he said as soon as they got close enough to hear him over the noise.

"Director, you've got to see this," Ortega said, pushing past Nathan to get at the computer. He pulled a flash drive out of one of his many pockets, and plugged it into the computer. He began typing at a speed Nathan didn't realize was physically possible.

Nathan glared at Parkman. "We need to talk," he said. "I need to know why you abandoned the hunt for Sylar. I need to know what you know about Prometheus. I need to know, now!"

Quiet reigned over the bullpen, as all eyes turned on Parkman and Nathan. All of a sudden, he had everyone's full attention. It felt good, but it still wasn't enough. He needed answers. Parkman stammered. "It's a complicated story…"

"Then uncomplicated it," Nathan demanded.

"The hunt for Sylar led in an interesting path, one that took me a little too close a group known as Prometheus," Matt said, trying desperately to follow orders.

It was Hector who stepped in and saved him. "Boss, you need to see this intel we stole from a Prometheus Facility in Nome."

Nathan leaned down and stared at the screen over Hector's shoulder. What he saw amazed and shocked him. It was a list of names. Not just any list, but THE LIST, the one Mohinder made based on his dad's formula. One of the many names highlighted was that of Claire Bennet's. Another name highlighted was Peter Petrelli's.

"We have more on your brother, but we'll come back to that," Ortega said. "You see, they've been doing experiments on people up in Alaska. They were going to remove Parkman's brain, for God's sake! I think they wanted my hands, too, but we never made it that far in, shall we say, negotiations. They pilfered this from the Agency database, and there's a lot of other crap from the Company, including files on all the Heads and their families. We think Peter is somehow wrapped up in the group, but not by choice. We almost have enough to blow this thing wide open, if you'll just give us more time, and a team to take to Bucharest. They have another facility, there."

Hector had spoken quickly, but Nathan had caught the gist of it. "No," Nathan said. "I have something else for you to do, first. Swing by my place in four days. I'm forming a committee of sorts to deal with this ever growing threat."

To Parkman, he added, "Sylar's been caught, in Seattle. I want you and the new kid, Frost, to deal with interrogations. Get it done." He started to walk away, and then stopped. Without turning back, he said, "Your job is safe, for now."

Nathan left the bullpen with a fire in his stomach.

**Three Days Later**

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Peter's Apartment, New York**_

The new bracelet worked as good as gold, but it still didn't stop his energy absorption. Nathan said he'd have some of the guys down at the Agency look into it. A lot of progress has happened since then. They now have the schematics worked out on the bracelet, and producing new ones to help keep dangerous abilities in check and to keep prisoners from using their abilities.

Claire left for Texas to spend time with adopted family, and he didn't get to say goodbye. He wrote a note for Heidi to give to her, but it wasn't the same. He should be with her. They were family after all, and he wanted to meet the woman who raised his niece.

It was for Claire that Peter started training his abilities again. He struggled daily to control the absorption, but it seemed no matter what he did, he couldn't quite shut it off. It was like a leaky valve, sure it was off, but water still got through. He did, however, learn to discharge it, so he wasn't quite so afraid to be around her.

Nathan was all in a tizzy about Prometheus, so it seemed best to leave him alone. The whole thing had come down on his shoulders hard, and he was starting to look really old and tired all the time. Pete wondered if he got any sleep at all. Heidi said he did, but what did that really mean. There was that time in Vegas that Nathan cheated on her, so he was capable of lying to the woman he said he loved.

Then, there was Sylar. The demented killer had asked for Pete to help him. He said Pete was the only person capable of dealing with Prometheus and their goonies. Nathan had flat out refused, remembering the last time the two were together.

Now, Pete stood on his rooftop, wondering if anything could be down about the organization known as Prometheus. Legion was still out there, and if anything, worse than before. He was getting picky, judging by the number of people who disappeared. Peter hadn't seen Jon since Seattle, and there was no word about him on the news. Claire seemed more distant than right after Seattle, and there seemed to be no mending that bridge.

Pete watched the sunset in the west, wondering if there was a point to any of this. He stood alone on the rooftop, waiting for some sign of what he should do.

"You should help me," a soft, feminine man's voice said. Pete spun around and stared into the face he vaguely remembered from his time in the All-Gift Program.

"Vann Shepard," he whispered to himself, but the man heard him anyway, nodding. He remembered that Julie showed him Vann's picture every so often, asking if he knew this person. Sometimes she'd say a name; mostly she didn't say anything but the question. "What are you doing here?"

"Seeking out the Seraphim," Vann said. "People who can fight in the last battle for this planet."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You and I are a lot alike, Peter Petrelli," Vann said. "In a way that binds us more closely than that of yours and Nathan's connection. You see, you and I, we share the same gift. We absorb the powers of those around us, but it is so much more than that. There is a history of our kind, Peter. We are Seraphim. One day, you will know that history.

"First, you must get rid of your earthly doubts of your talents. If you absorb an ability you don't want, purge yourself of it. You must also learn to shield you gifts from the other Seraphim. We are now four, total."

"You're not making any sense," Peter said, turning away from the madman.

"I will, in time," Vann said. He raised his hand, sending an arc of electricity crashing into Peter's bracelet. "Now, you must prepare yourself for battle with Demons. Go to your brother's house, tomorrow at seven. He will tell you where your fight with Legion ends. You are the last of a kind, Peter. Make us proud." Vann launched himself into the sky, flying off.

Peter wavered in the wake of mysterious man. It felt like someone cracked his head like an egg. He had new powers, he was sure of it, but just which ones, he couldn't be sure. Words filled his head, little fish swimming in a sea of swirling madness. _The power of man isn't in the strength of his mind, muscle, or soul. It comes from the extent of his heart. It is where your power lays, Peter Petrelli. Find that extent._ The world was turning black, and there on the roof of his apartment building, Peter Petrelli fainted.

_(A/N – this may be the last update for a day or two, maybe more, but I doubt it. It's the end of the second story arc, and I'll be taking a break while I script the third. For anyone interest, each story arc has a title, you know, like "Save the cheerleader, save the world". The first was called Recovery. The second, Coming Together. The third will be called Seraphim, with the fourth being The Storm. _

_This is, in a way, a half way point between my version of the second season. This is, in fact, the fall finale. I do plan to continue writing this story into season three and beyond, each with my own storyline._

_Thanks to everyone who read, thanks even more to everyone who's reviewed – Traumedy101)_


	19. Preperation

_**Heidi Petrelli**_

_**Peter's Apartment, New York**_

She didn't trust him not to pass out on her again, so she stayed would stay with him through the night. She decided to as she helped him into the elevator. Now, Peter sat on a chair in his kitchen as she cooked a quick meal. This was her chance to pick his brains about why Nathan was so secretive about the explosion.

"I can't believe it," she heard Peter talking to himself behind her. She turned, and to her amazement, there was a glowing blue circle in front of him.

"What is it?" she asked, all thoughts of exploding wiped from her mind.

Peter shrugged, moving his hand around and staring at the circle following him. "I haven't seen anything else use an ability like this," Pete said. "Try throwing something at it."

"What? Why?"

"Well, we can't know what it is without testing it out." She mulled it over and, thinking it sound true, she tossed an egg at him. The blue thing shined brighter for a moment as the egg crashed into. It was solid. Peter looked down at the bracelet he wore since he came back. It had a digital readout, and it seemed fine, but he shook his wrist as someone who was trying to fix a watch. "How did he do it?" he asked himself.

"Who did what, now?" Heidi asked. She knew that Peter was more complicated than Nathan suggested, but this was ridiculous. A flying blue shield of light? Come on, this isn't a comic book.

He dropped the little force field with his hand. "This guy came by, earlier," Pete said, hesitantly. "He said a bunch of crap about the final battle for the world. Then, he threw electricity at the bracelet, and I passed out. Some crap swirled around in my head, like I knew that I'd absorbed powers and something about the extent of the heart is the strength of a hero. And now, boom!" He threw up the shining blue shield again, nearly making her jump. "I wonder if I got the whole electric thing, too," he asked himself, looking at his hands.

Heidi stopped thinking about the powers he may or may not have gotten. "You said the final battle for the world. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?" Peter looked at her, and she could tell what he could tell her, what Nathan told her.

"What did Nathan tell you about Toronto?"

Heidi shook her head, confused. That happened already, and she figured everybody would know about the final battle for the world. "That you were attacked by some loony person with sup-ed up abilities. What's that got to do with anything?"

"That loony was a guy I spent time with up in Nome, after the explosion. He's kind of like me…"

"You mean Sylar?" Heidi asked.

Pete shook his head. "I mean like me. He doesn't kill to gain powers like Sylar, he absorbs them, only he takes the people with them, too. He, I don't know, _merges _with people with abilities. He tried to do it with me. The guy who stopped by today said I'd have to fight him one last time, to save the world."

Heidi gave him her disbelieving look, like when Monty or Simon tell her a tall tale about where they were or why they didn't finish their homework. "Why you, Pete? Why is it always you?"

"Because I can do them all, if I'm exposed to them." He turned away from her, trying to do something with his hands.

"Pete, leave this to the Agency. You don't have to do this," Heidi said, nearly pleading. The job had taken Nathan from her, and she'd be damned if she let it take Peter, too. She was the last adult she had contact with, other than people Nathan hired to help around the house. He was the last bit of family she had. She would cling, tooth and nail to him, forcing her way back to Nathan, back to the world, and nothing would ever stop her. Not even sup-up loony's from Toronto or Timbuktu.

Sparks flew up from his open hand. "Maybe I do," Pete said, smiling. "Maybe it was what I was meant to do. I just have to learn control, first." 

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Hart Center, Tokyo, Japan**_

Hiro teleported into his father's old office. He immediately jumped when he saw that the whole place had been cleaned up, and his notebook was gone. The notebook from the future with all the answer in it. He had yet to stop one of them from happening, and now, without the book, how would he stop the rest?

(Looking for something,) Ando asked. He sat behind the desk, turning as Hiro entered. He held up the notebook. (Just why is it that you don't want me coming with you, Hiro? Tell me that, and I'll give it back.)

Hiro sighed. The truth was to hard for poor little Ando. How could he tell his friend how he ended up in the future, one-eyed and one-handed, all because he helped out Hiro? How could he face the responsibility for Ando's madness? And he was mad in the future, completely nuts.

"Tell me, Hiro," Ando demanded.

So, Hiro told him about the future Ando, complete with injuries and madness. Bit by bit, Ando's face fell.

When he stopped, silence feel between them, heavy and suffocating. Then, Ando's face broke into a smile. (We're going to stop the future, right? So why is it a big deal if come with you?: We just stop it from happening,) he said, making Hiro wonder why he didn't get that from the beginning.

Hiro nodded, grinning himself. It was just like their first journey all over again.

"There is one problem, Hiro," Ando said, killing the jubilant moment. "We have to bring Sakura with us. She can actually help you in a fight with other people with abilities. Besides, it's one more step into changing the future."  
"No," Hiro said. "I will not endanger her and you. If this is the way it must be, fine." He shut his eyes, freezing time. Ando sat there, frozen with a shocked look on his face. Hiro walked over, took the notebook, and then teleported out.

When time came back from a standstill, Ando smiled. What Hiro didn't know was that Nathan's secretary had called to confirm the meeting for tomorrow. He and Sakura already had plane tickets to New York, and we're leaving for the airport in five minutes. They might be late, but they would be there.

_**Will Stone**_

_**Hershey, Pennsylvania**_

He sat in the car while Gavin dealt with hotel clerk. Mackenzie and Teagan had gone with him, at Will's request. He wanted a moment to himself.

He'd already made up his mind before they hit Pennsylvania. As soon as he had a chance, he was leaving. They'd draw less attention that way. Without him, they wouldn't be in as much danger, and he could return to his midnight fights with street thugs, or whatever path he decided to take.

With some mastery, Will thought, he might soon be an Agent, fighting the big boys alongside Parkman or Tisdale, or some new rookie like him. The thought made him happy, but most of all, he knew he had to get away from Mackenzie. He'd decided somewhere in Kansas. Teagan was right about him. He wasn't good enough for Mackenzie. She deserved so much better than an alcoholic or a failed writer. She spent so much time with him, that she nearly believed the lies that one day, he would make it, that his first book would reach the best sellers list, and he would sell like Stephen King.

Some dreams never come true, and some were never meant to. It was to forge a new dream, in New York. All he had to do was cut that last line.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Odessa, Texas**_

She waited for Nathan to pick up the phone. She'd been trying figure out what she needed to do with her life, ever since Seattle. She couldn't stay in New York anymore, not with Peter there, the way he was now. Nathan seemed determined to keep her separate from him. With Noah's death, there was no real reason to try anymore. It was time to forge out a life of her own, on her own.

"_Claire, it's good to hear from you," _Nathan answered. He'd told her to call anytime, night or day, and she took him up on that. "_How are you doing?"_

"Nathan, I'm not coming back," she said, quickly, forcing it out before she thought otherwise.

_"If you want to stay in Texas, that's fine, Claire. I'll come down to visit when I can, and you can come up here for vacations and what-not, and…"_

"I won't be staying in Texas, either." This was the part she knew Nathan would have a problem with.

Silence seemed to ring out from the other end of the phone. Finally, he spoke again, all his soothing voice gone. "_What do you mean, you won't be staying in Texas?"_

"Exactly that," Claire said. "I need to find my place in the world, on my own."

She knew that on the other end of the line, Nathan was struggling for words; not just any words, the right ones. He must have finally decided, because he spoke. _"Claire, can we talk about this later? I have something going on here at the house."_

"Sure," Claire said.

"_Just don't do anything until we talk again, okay?"_

It wasn't no like she thought it would be. "That sounds fair."

"_Alright, I have to go. I love you, Claire," _Nathan said, before he hung up.

It wasn't a mistake. Claire heard what she thought she did. It was such a strange move for Nathan; she didn't see it coming. She supposed it could be true, but he didn't even give her a chance to respond. What the hell was he playing at?

She hung up, waiting for the answer to come to her.

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Petrelli Mansion, New York**_

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Parkman said. "Something up?"

Nathan shook his head. "Let's just get this done before Heidi gets home. I don't want her to know what we're planning to do. I've got a way to get her out of the house tomorrow for the meeting. Thanks to Peter, that is."

He sat down with Parkman, talking about tomorrow's meeting on Prometheus; about how Matt wanted to question Peter about his time in the All Gift program; Hiro's weird connection to the group; the connection with Company; whether or not to show off the flash drive to Hiro, since he wasn't technically part of the Agency. All the time, Nathan thought about what he said to Claire.

He really wanted to mean it, but he didn't know if he did, yet. It was only a matter of time he supposed, but now that he said, time was no longer a luxury. Oh, god, what had he done?


	20. Of Two Minds

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Petrelli Mansion, New York**_

Nathan looked around the room at the faces of what he now considered his Prometheus Council. Hiro Nakamura said that he'd been to the future and had evidence as what Prometheus would do the world. Matt Parkman and Hector Ortega had been to the Nome Facility and brought back copies of several of their programs, such as the All-Gift, which included Nathan's own brother for four months. Bartholomew Ridge was injured defending Molly Parker from one of the cast-off's of one of their programs. Peter, who was in the program, wasn't here, but thanks to Parkman, he had a new ace up his sleeve. He grinned, just thinking about it.

"Well," he said to the gathered group of people. "We should probably get started simply sharing the knowledge we have on the Group. We know they have a facility in Bucharest. We know that they're killing off people who work or worked for the Company. We know that they eventually start a war that will lead to the end to the end of the world as we know it."

Hiro looked around. "Where is Peter Petrelli?" he asked, leading the others to look around for him. Puzzled faces looked back at Nathan.

"He should be here," Hector said. "He was in the files. Hell, he was _in _one of their programs."

"So was Claire, but she's isn't here either," Matt said, covering for Nathan. He was the only one of them who knew who they had waiting in one of the backrooms.

Nathan nodded. "Peter is dangerous to himself, not by purpose, but by design. His ability could go off at any minute, and all of us know what would happen if he lost control. He's too sensitive."

"He's the strongest person we know," Ridge said. "Without him, what chance do we stand against this bloke, Legion?"

Nathan nodded. "Nobody's arguing Peter's strength. He is an asset, but we have others, many others. Plus, we will have the element of surprise and knowledge, not to mention numbers. If he's in Bucharest, we will take him out…"

He heard the front door open, and his first thought was that his ace backed out. Then it leapt to a thousand other possibilities. Heidi brought the kids home early; the Agency found about his ace; the Agency found out about Prometheus and their little meeting and we're crashing it.

What he didn't expect was Peter, and that's who came walking in with a smirk on his face. He took a seat next to Hiro and starred at Nathan. "What are you doing here?" he asked his brother.

Peter smiled. "Doing what Mom told us to do, helping to fight Prometheus. I've been there, I know what tricks they have. You need me, Nathan. Accept it."

"That's where you wrong, Pete," Nathan said, killing Peter's smile. "We have someone who knows a little bit better than you what they're capable of." He opened the back door and let his ace into the room. Tension filled the room as his ace came in, with shackles on his wrists and ankles. Parkman went for his gun.

"Sylar," Peter whispered to himself in disgust.

"Nice to see you again, Peter," the killer known as Sylar said, grinning.

"Have you lost your mind?" Ridge asked. "You can't trust him, Nathan. He tried to kill us, on more than one occasion. You've gone nuts, man! It's the only reason I can see you doing this!"

Nathan put his hands up to call order to the meeting. "Peter stayed in a cell for four months at Prometheus; Sylar worked for them on the outside. You tell me, who would you rather get information from?"

Everyone of them said the same thing; _Peter. _"He hasn't tried to kill us, Nathan, or did you miss that on your up-close encounter with your colon?" Hector said. "Boss, this just isn't right, and you know it. This man is a killer and a sociopath. He's only looking out for himself."

"Sylar's in it for real," Matt whispered. Everybody heard him. They knew that strained look on his face. He read the killer's mind, and he knew that Sylar wanted to destroy Prometheus as much as anybody else in the room.

After that, everybody seemed to calm down a little, except Peter. He glared at his brother. "You'd rather have him at your side," Pete said. "Fine, you and you're little company can run off to Hell with this killer."

He stormed out, leaving the meeting, as Nathan had hoped. He hated to hurt his brother like this, but it had to be done. It was the best thing for him. Pete couldn't over-tax himself, or he could very well loose control of his abilities again, and this time, Nathan didn't know if he could help.

_**Elle Bishop**_

_**Bucharest, Romania**_

Vann stood before them like a general before his troops. "You all know the drill. Only this time, it's a fight we can't afford to lose. This time, it's for the big enchilada. They're going to come over here and enter a fight that can't win. That's where we come in. We're going to help them now, so we can win later."

Elle looked over at Michael. He didn't seem to be listening to Vann, for the first time ever. Michael loved Vann, and took in every word he says. For the first time in his life, Michael was disillusioned about his mentor. It was written ever line of his face. He didn't believe Vann.

_**Adam Munroe**_

_**The Facility, Bucharest, Romania**_

Legion sat before Adam's desk, looking like a scolded little boy in the principal's office. Good, that's how he wanted him to feel. "This feud you have with Peter has got to end. I know it was us who sent you after him in the first place, but that stunt in Seattle looks bad to the head people. This can't go on."

Legion's head lowered further.

"That is why you're going to fly to New York, find him, and end it, one way or another. Don't come back until you do. If you die in your little chase, so be it." Adam turned away. "Now get out."

When he heard the door close, Adam smiled. He hoped Legion would arrive in time to stall the other Petrelli brother long enough for him to truly prepare the Facility for battle. There were so many things he had to do. Julie was on her way. James was near freak-out level. Lord knows what was going through David's mind, but he seemed eager to finish the Petrelli job.

The only person he trusted was Kyoko, the little Japanese minx who would help him end his own little feud with Hiro Nakamura. Four hundred years, he waited for Carp to show his face again, and now, finally he had his chance. He took so much pleasure ending Kaito's life, he wondered what it would be like to end an entire family line. Perhaps he should go after Hiro's sister before he finally faced off with Hiro.

No, there wasn't time. Hiro was on his way here, or soon would be. Time has always been Adam's side, but he never had the patience. He couldn't put it off any further.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Odessa, Texas**_

For the first time in a long time, Claire logged onto the little Mutant Myspace. She was amazed to find that her friend Shade was on. He sent her a message, almost immediately.

_I remember you saying you lived in New York, well, we're almost there!_

Claire, puzzled, sent back: _What do you mean?_

Bing! The message from Shade said: _Things got pretty bad on my vacation, now we're going to the Big Apple. Will I see you there?  
_For a while Claire didn't respond. She didn't know what to do. Back to New York? She smiled. _Yeah, I'll be there. We'll talk details later._

_Cool, well, got's to go. We're leaving Hershey in a few minutes. Bye!_

Claire's smile grew. She was back on her path.

_**Sylar**_

_**Hart Center, New York**_

They dropped him here. He'd never forget that. He gave them everything they needed on Prometheus, and then they just left him here to rot.

The cell was small, colorless, and smelled of urine. They gave him nothing to occupy his time, other than paint and canvas. They knew what he could do, and they wanted to use it for their own gain.

_Maybe it won't be so bad, being helpful,_ he thought. It was a wild thought, and he didn't know where it came from, but before he knew it, he was stepping towards the canvas with a paint brush in his hands.

When he stepped back, his entire body ached. He must have been at it for hours. When he looked at the canvas, it was blank. _What the hell?  
_He focused, trying to see something in the incredible whiteness of the canvas, but he painted nothing. What had he been doing, then?  
Sylar gave up, letting his eyes wander. That's when he saw it.

He'd covered the wall with paint, in a very disturbing image. Two identical people were engaged in a battle to the death. The problem was they were both him.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Peter's Apartment, New York**_

He stormed into his apartment, wanting to rage and destroy everything he came in contact with. _Sylar! He choose Sylar over his own brother! _ This thought spun around his head like a tornado, and it fuelled his fury. He shot out arcs of electricity, scorching the walls.

Then the door opened and Heidi came in. "What are you doing here?" he growled

"I came to see how things went with Nathan," she said, not in the least intimidated. "I think I can figure it out, though." She motioned to the black marks on his walls.

"He picked Sylar instead of me, Heidi," Pete said, nearly crying. "Why would anyone in their right mind pick a sociopath over their own brother?"

Heidi hugged him, feeling the shoulder of her blouse dampen. He was crying now, shaking with sobs. She shushed him, patting his back in a vain attempt to comfort him. "You know exactly what he is thinking. He is trying to protect you, Pete. It may come out wrong, but his heart is in the right place. You know that, don't you?"

He shook his head. "If that were the case, I never would have exploded."

"What do you mean?" Heidi asked, wondering if she would finally get her answers about that night. She did, and it made her think of the man she'd been living with. He knew what would happen if he stood by, and still he did nothing till the last second. His mother. His damned mother. To think, just the other day, she was singing that wretched woman's praises. She didn't just know about it, she _orchestrated _it. How could a woman do that to her own child?

"I know what I have to do," he said, stopping his tears. "I have to prove what I could be. I have to go to Bucharest and finish this myself."

"No," Heidi said, trying to hold him back as he went for the window. "That is a very bad idea," she said, but she lost her grip and he flew out the window, off to what very well could be his death. _For Nathan, again, _ she thought, staring after Peter.


	21. Path of a Hero

_**Will Stone**_

_**New York, New York**_

He left the others at the hotel, leaving some excuse. He didn't even remember which one he gave. He'd been too focused on getting to the place where it all started; Kirby Plaza.

If Seattle was bad, New York was worse. Everywhere he looked, he saw distrustful eyes looking away from everyone else. Fear ran course through the throbbing mass of people. They must have been tourists trying to fit in, because Will had always heard that the citizens of the city where more than willing to fight back, do something stupid and brave. It was their city, after all, and they should be able to fight for it.

By noon, he stood in Kirby Plaza, exactly where Peter Petrelli once stood, loosing control and starting to build his own cache of radioactivity, turning himself into an atom bomb. There was a sense of pride here, a pride of coming together to save the world. Peter had thought himself a hero, trying to save the world from Sylar, but in the end, it was Peter who exploded.

Will was humbled before the emotions that swept him. This was his life's work, and the progenitor of the first-final stand against Sylar, the so-far ultimate villain. Will only wished he could have been here to help.

Few people looked twice at Kirby Plaza, even though there were a number of people moving in and out of the building. Will thought everyone who did glance this way had a question about some unexplainable aspect of their life, just like he once did, and were afraid to seek the answer here.

He wanted to shout them that the answers weren't always as bad as you thought; that it was okay to be different, but he didn't. Instead he just sat at the on the fountain, taking in the atmosphere of where it all started.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**New York, New York**_

It was a sense of déjà vu that washed over her as she exited the airport. Once before, she came here looking for someone and it ended up horribly. The entire city was almost destroyed and she thought she'd lost the first connection she'd made with anyone sense she found out about herself. The feeling nearly crippled her with fear and dread.

Claire forced it down. There wasn't a killer on the loose anymore. Peter was getting control of his powers. Everything was alright. Using the airport's Wi-Fi, she sent a message to Shade, telling him she'd meet him later that week at the Hart Center.

As she left climbed into a waiting cab, she thought of calling Nathan or Peter, but both were too busy doing other things to bother with her. The person she called she didn't think she ever would. What did she have in common with Heidi Petrelli?  
When she answered, Claire's throat threatened to seize. Something bad was going on, she could feel it. Something evil.

_"Claire, are you there?" _Heidi asked, concern obvious in her voice.

"Yeah," Claire said. "A goose just walked over my grave, gave me the chills."

"_How are you doing?" _Heidi asked. Claire knew what she meant. _How was she doing now that her dad was dead? _

"Okay, I suppose. Look, I'm back in New York."

_"Nathan told me you weren't coming back."_

"Yeah, I don't want him to know, either," Claire said, hoping Heidi would understand. "I just want to be by myself, get everything together, you know?"

_"And you need a place to stay?" _Heidi asked, gathering it rather quickly. "_I know just the place."_

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Kirby Plaza, New York**_

He took a spot off the plaza, so he could see the place were everything went to hell. It hadn't changed much since he last saw it. Pete felt incredibly afraid, thinking that something bad was going to happen. It worse than the explosion. Since he left Heidi in his apartment, he'd broken out in a cold sweat. He was getting sick, just like he did in Odessa, where he first meet with Sylar.

He couldn't do this alone, like he'd said to Heidi. He looked around the plaza, hoping to find someone who could help him, not knowing anyone, or if they could even do anything.

Pete spotted one person, sitting on the fountain. Dark brown hair overhanging his face, rip in his pants; to Pete, he looked like he was searching for something. He walked over to the kid and sat down next to him. The kid's eyes went wide. "Peter Petrelli," he said in reverence.

Peter nodded. "You make it sound like I'm some sort of hero. I'm not."

"That's bull and you know it," the kid said. "You made it okay to say this is what I am. You the reason I'm here. I'm lost, and I can't find my home, whatever that it."

"I can't help you find home, not when I don't know you."

"My name is William Stone," he recited, sounding like a man at an AA meeting, "and I am a mutant. The problem is, I have no idea where to go from here."

"How do you feel about fighting?" Pete asked, thinking this was easier than pie. This kid wanted to help, wanted to fight, wanted to prove something to someone.

"Just tell me who and why, and I'm there," Will said. "I've already faced a number of gang members, and I fought against a nut-job named Legion."

_Wait, "_What? You fought Legion?" Pete asked, his turn to speak in reverence. Anyone who could survive a fight against that monster could easily help him out against Prometheus.

"I had help, but yes, I did," Will said proudly. "If I get the chance, I'd do it again. This time, I'd end the whole damn thing once and for all." Pete saw a flash of hate in the kid's eyes and wondered if it was such a good idea to use this kid. Will wanted to be used though, Pete told himself.

"How about a few of the people that pull Legion's strings?"

"You can't be serious," Will said. "Let me get this straight. You want me to help you take out a bunch of super-powered freaks?" Pete nodded. "Let's go, man!"

_**Mackenzie Wilkes**_

_**New York, New York**_

The hotel room was small and filled with half-hearted paintings of place she would never see, and judging from the way they were painted, never wanted to see. She sat on one of the beds in the room, listening to the water run in the shower.

Her mind turned to Will, off on another one of his little trips. She prayed it didn't involve a trip to the local liquor store. There were three of them in walking distance of the hotel that she saw, probably more. This part of New York was worse than Seattle. They must have passed three or four obvious drug-dealers on their way here. It was the one's she couldn't spot that scared her.

Mackenzie leapt when the phone rang. She stared at it, hoping whoever it was would hang-up. No one knew they were hear, so whoever they were trying to reach was gone. Then, she remembered Will, and lunged for it, but it stopped ringing. _Damn it! _She hated being away from their place in Seattle. There was too much to be afraid off.

The phone rang again, and Mackenzie ripped it off the cradle. "Will," she said.

"_Sorry, this is the front desk. We have a message here for you from, well, Will Stone_," the clerk said. "_It says he met Peter Petrelli and the two of them are leaving to take on the word, that he'll be back as soon as he can."_

"Thank you," Mackenzie said before hanging up.

Teagan came out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel. "Was that Will?" she asked. Mackenzie shook her head, not wanting to give her sister another reason to hate him. Teagan stretched out on the other bed. "Well, let me know when he calls. He said he would, if was going to be out for a while." Then, drifting off to sleep, she added. "He's not such a bad guy."

Mackenzie wanted to cry. For the first time ever, Teagan didn't bad mouth her boyfriend, and she wanted her to. Will once again left her alone to fend for herself while he's off doing God knows what till God knows when. This crap had to stop if they were ever going to have a future together.

She flipped open his suitcase to search for bottles, something she did whenever he was gone for more than an hour. Patting things down, she felt something in one of his pockets and couldn't identify it. She pulled it out, her mouth falling open, and she nearly dropped it.

The small, velvety black box bounced lightly on the bed. Mackenzie knew what it was without opening it. She knew inside, she'd find a small, elegant ring fitted to her left hand ring finger. She knew what he meant to tell, and it felt like the world opened up at her feet. At any minute she would fall. She waited.

A knock came at the door, scaring her. She shoved the box back into his pants pocket and slammed the lid of the suitcase so loudly, Teagan shot up, looking for whatever had caused the noise.

The door pushed open, and Gavin came in carrying several bags with a familiar arch on them. "I got lunch, if anyone's interested," he said, with a sweet little smile. Mackenzie nodded, even though she wasn't very hungry anymore, and returned his smile.

_**Will Stone**_

_**New York, New York**_

The world is so different when you're walking down the street with your hero. Will walked taller than he had since Mackenzie first agreed to go out with him. He looked over at Peter, and was worried though. How were they supposed to take out an organization when he was obviously sick.

"Are you okay, man?" Will asked. "You don't look so good."

Pete nodded, but then he stumbled. His eyes rolled up into the back off his head. He collapsed and started convulsing. People around them started to scream and panic, as white foam came pouring out of Peter's mouth.

From the crowd came a familiar face framed in blonde hair. "Lift his head," she ordered, crouching down next to him. She held him tightly, making sure he didn't swing around and hurt himself.

"Claire, what are you doing here?"

"Now is not the time to talk about that," she barked. "All I want you to do is save my Uncle."

Will lifted Peter's head up, tilting it slightly to the side. All the while, he stared disbelieving at Claire. His mind raced back to the reports of the explosion. There had been someone named Claire mentioned, barely. "Holy…"

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Location Unknown**_

He was about to tell Will that he was fine, then he'd fallen. That much he knew. As to where he was now, there was no was to tell.

The sky was filled with black clouds, arcs of pure blue energy streaking between them, them and earth, and everywhere to everywhere. The ground itself shook with such ferocity that he could barely stand. Tornados stretched from the clouds, reaching for the ground. There was no sound.

Before him, he saw Nathan. He was saying something to Peter, but Pete couldn't hear him. Behind Nathan, Jon stood, surrounded by arcs of energy. It was flooding him; Pete could feel it's reach from where he stood.

Nathan flew away from Pete, grabbing Jon, taking him into the sky. Pete wondered how anyone could stand to be so close to that surge. The world went black.


	22. Personal War

_(A/N: I would like to apologize for the absence of updates the past couple of days. I got into playing SimCity, and it takes up a lot of time. I also started reading __The Golden Compass__. On top off all that, I started working on an original story. So updates maybe a little slower._

_I would also like to wish everyone a belated non-denominational winter holiday of their choice, and an early happy New Years. May all your dreams come true. – Traumedy101)_

_**Michael Gray**_

_**The Bucharest Facility**_

He led Elle silently through the night air as they made their way to the front doors of the facility. He knew what was coming; he knew just about everything it seemed. Peter needed to be with Nathan for awhile. Soon, Vann would attempt to tear them apart. It was all apart of Vann's plan to use Peter as a tool in his own personal war against the Others, the Seraphim, and Prometheus.

Michael, feeling the pressure of time on his shoulders, pushed opened the doors of the facility and stepped inside. Somewhere inside, he knew alarms were going off, and that the crew would soon be looking for intruders. Luckily for him, they were looking for Petrelli's team, not Michael and Elle. He reached over his shoulder and pulled the bone tattoo from his back, prepping himself.

"Why are we doing this now?" Elle whispered. "Vann's plan was to come when Petrelli needed us. This is a direct move against orders."

"Elle, you remember that thing I told you about, when we were locked up in the Company?" he asked, trying to job her memory. She nodded, her face lovely in the glow of the moon. "The time is coming soon, and I need to be as far from Vann and the Seraphim as I can in order to do it." Will you help me?" She nodded again, as he knew she would.

The plan was simple: he would take the brunt of the attack, and she would keep him alive. Beyond that, he didn't know.

He heard the coming soldiers stomping their way to where they were. He forced himself not to worry about Elle and swung the sword as the door burst open. He caught the first guard under the chin, taking his head clean off. After that, Michael lost all awareness as a blood rage took him.

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Bucharest, Romania**_

"What the hell do you mean, we have to go somewhere else?" He demanded.

"We're experiencing a national crisis right now, and we're not letting tourists in," the captain said. Petrelli's team was meet by a group of soldiers at customs and told to leave.

"We're not tourists, we're business men," Nathan shouted, the vein in his forehead pounding. "In fact, we work for the American government! You have to let us in!"

The captain shook his head. "You can wait on your plane, if you wish, but until this crisis is resolved, nobody gets in."

Nathan drudged back to his plane, big enough to hold every member of his team and the pilot and co-pilot. Nothing else. He took a seat in the plush seating area next to Matt Parkman.

"What happened?" Hiro asked, looking as innocent as ever. It was hard to believe this man once ran a sword through another individual at any time, even a killer like Sylar.

"A national crisis," Nathan said. "They're not letting anyone in." He sunk into his seat.

Matt stared out the window at the captain, his face twisted in concentration. "They're not telling us something," he said, pushing the connection harder. He couldn't quite reach the captain's mind. "I think it has something to do with Prometheus."

"What?" Ridge asked, outraged. "That's the bloody reason we're here! We can stop this, I know we can!"

Matt's face fell, and Nathan started to worry. "Matt, what did you just hear?"

"The facility, it's under attack," Parkman said. "A part of it's gone, blown up. The other half is filled with bodies, dead and dying. Here's the weird part. It looks like only two people crippled it. They've only identified one of them, but they know there's another one, shooting off arcs of electricity at anyone who gets too close to the attacker."

"Who is it, Matt?" Nathan asked, his mind racing. He shouldn't have been so hard on Peter. It couldn't be Peter, could it? Who could he get that can generate electricity? The only person Nathan knew off was Ortega, and he was on the plane.

"It's not Peter, but the name Gray keeps popping in the captain's head," Matt said. "The little guy out there keeps thinking Sylar."

Hiro shut his eyes, and Nathan reached out to stop him, but the little Japanese man was gone. "Damn it!" Nathan swore.

"Now he's getting all the action," Ortega said, a little sadly.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**The Bucharest Facility**_

He teleported outside the facility, and he immediately regretted it. The place reeked of death. Blood poured out of the open doors. It was like his little trip to the future. Black smoke pouring out of the ground. Death and destruction everywhere.

Hiro entered the facility, against the nagging urge to run, run as far as he could, and never look back. He saw a flash off blond hair bounce in the firelight and flashed back to sometime before the explosion. _Save the cheerleader, save the world._ The cheerleader was blond. Right? He struggled to remember her name. "Claire?" he asked.

She turned around and glared into his eyes. It wasn't Claire. She held out her hand, charging electricity in it. He was getting ready to duck when he saw the flash of a sword hanging over her neck, ready to come down hard. Hiro had his blade out before he could think and he threw the girl to the ground. The two swords clanged loudly.

A familiar face stepped out of the shadows. "Kensei?"

"Hello, Carp," he said, grinning. "I finally get to show you what you did to me when you took her from me." His eyes flashed to the blond. Kensei's sword went to strike. Hiro's katana meet Kensei's once more.

Kensei went on the attack, swinging his blade so much faster than he did four hundred years ago. Hiro did everything he could to keep from getting sliced up. As it was, he was pushed out the door.

He brought his sword spinning around, slicing off the ancient samurai's hand. A new one grew back before the severed one hit the ground. "Nice try, Carp, but I've had so much time to get used to that." Kensei kicked out, putting Hiro on the ground. "Now, I kill you like I did your father." Kensei brought his sword up.

The blond sent out an arc of lightening, striking the tip of the katana, electrocuting the ancient samurai. With Kensei once again on the ground, Hiro stood and looked down at him. Déjà vu, he thought. The blond grabbed his arm and pulled him away. "C'mon," she said. "He'll be back up in a matter of moments and I for one don't want to be here when he does."

"Who are you?"

"Now's really not the time for introductions, little man," she said, a quirky grin on her face. "Michael's waiting for me, and I thought I'd save you butt while I'm at it."

Hiro admitted she was right, and let her pull him through the waste that was the Bucharest facility.

_**Will Stone**_

_**Peter's Apartment, New York**_

_There goes my chance at being a hero, _he thought, looking over an unconscious Peter Petrelli. He flipped on the TV. There was a breaking new report about a vicious battle in Bucharest, the place he and Peter were supposed to storm. The fight started without them.

Will threw the remote and it shattered on the wall. "Damn it!" he shouted. He felt so frustrated. He couldn't go back to Mackenzie without proving himself worthy. What the hell was he going to do now?

While he fumed on the couch, watching the coverage of the fight half a world away, the wall behind shimmered like a mirage. Two men stepped out of it, and the wall returned to normal.

One of the men brought his fist down on the back of Will's head, hard enough to knock him out.

The tall one stepped over to Peter and lifted him up. "You know the place, Wyrm," he said to the one that hit Will. Wyrm nodded, and opened a portal on the wall to San Ribero. The tall one looked at Will, and grimaced. "Get rid of him, before returning to Bucharest, okay?" Wyrm nodded again, and watched Vann carry Peter to the other side of the world.

He looked over Will, frowning. He was tired of always getting rid of people, taking people, and all that other crap that Prometheus made him do. Now Vann was doing it, too, and it was just too much. Once again, he was leaving the organization. He was no longer an Other. The only thing was, he didn't know what that made him now. Perhaps he could be a hero, like Peter or Michael. Or something.

_**Michael Gray**_

_**Over the Atlantic**_

The helicopter trooped on towards New York, only now they had one more person aboard. Michael looked around at the Others who joined him: Elle, Smokey, Kate, Noel. If only he would have gotten the chance to talk with Wyrm before hand…

"Where are we going?" the Japanese man asked. Michael shot Elle an angry look. It was her fault for bringing him. Michael didn't mind so much after he found out what almost happened to her, but still.

Michael knew this was not the place that Hiro wanted to be. It was not the first step into saving the world. That was in New York, and he told Elle to tell him, but here he was, still with them. Why didn't he just teleport back to New York? Elle told him to go to Ellis Island. That was the next step to stopping the war that was coming. "Don't worry about it, Hiro," Elle told him. "You know where you should be."

"Elle, I don't like this much," Hiro said, looking out the window. "Anything could happen to you." Once she told Hiro her name, he remembered it from somewhere in the notebook to himself. If only he could remember where, then he would stop it from happening.

"My friend here," she motioned towards Michael, "he's very talented. I'll be fine, Hiro. Just go on to New York, okay? I'll see you there."

He gave her a questioning look, then he finally teleported out.

Michael looked around. "Time is short. I have work to do, and I need help to do it. Does anyone here know a Claire Bennet?"

Smokey's eyes lit up, but it was Elle who spoke. "Yeah, she's the daughter of Noah Bennet, that guy I told you about who worked for the Company. She'll be with him."

Smokey shook his head. "Not quite. You see, Claire is the adopted daughter of Noah. She's in the true blue blood daughter of Nathan Petrelli. She's in New York."

Michael nodded. Of course. Life is teetering on a line between coincidence and fate. Claire is related to Peter, who is also important to the future, but is also in danger from Prometheus, who is intent on wiping out any last living relative of the company, twice so. Hiro mistook Elle for Claire, and that was why he was so clingy to her. Save the cheerleader and all that.  
That stuff didn't matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was the next couple of days, when the war begins. The Last War.

_**Wyrm **_

_**Peter's Apartment**_

Will wasn't so bad a guy, after all. For hours the two spent time talking to each other about what they want to do. Maybe Wyrm found his place after all. The two of them could do so much. When someone knocked on the door, Wyrm hid in the closet, until he heard her voice. She doesn't go anywhere without Michael, and she usually has candy.

"We're looking for Claire Bennet," she said. "Have you seen her?"

Wyrm burst out of the closet and hugged Elle, laughing even though no one had told a joke.

Will looked befuddled, but Wyrm didn't care. Everything was going so well.


	23. Past and Present

_(A/N – I would like to apologize in advance for anything anyone might read here. It's almost impossible not to bring up the topic of religion when talking about evolution, nowadays, and I went straight for the big cheese of a rather large section of the religion world. Personally, I don't believe Jesus was the son of God, but he most definitely was one of the greatest people ever to live. If anyone deserved to have a religion follow him, he does. Nor do I wish to anger anyone, or insult their beliefs This is just my take on the __Heroes __Universe. I'm sorry if anyone is upset by the words involving religion in this. I would give both of my hands if everyone could just get along, and I think of my hands as my greatest asset. They allow me to write, physically. Without them, I would probably go insane. I pray that you let me off on this, and let it go as just good humor. I mean no disrespect, but I will not flinch when it comes to plot. If I can think of something, I will use it, no matter who I offend. I just hope people realize that I don't mean in it in real life. I could go on and on, apologizing for this, but I won't._

_Again, Sorry if I offended you. –Traumedy101)_

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**San Ribero**_

Peter woke with his head aching and sweat pouring down his face. It was so hot for New York. Then he looked around. He wasn't in New York.

The room was decorated sparsely. A small woven blanket hung from one of the wall, and looked like something made by Native Americans. He was on the only bit of furniture, a cot with a sheet and nearly flat pillow. "What the…"

The door opened and Vann stepped in. "Peter, I told you we needed to talk, and now we will, with no distractions."

"Where am I? Where's Claire?" Peter demanded.

"No questions. Listen…"

_Vann's Tale_

_Year Zero_

_It started with a man now known as Alphonse. He was like us, Empathic Mimicry is the scientific name, if science had anything to do with it. He was born two thousand years ago, and knew the first of us who had gifts. His name was Jesus. He sparked a revolution, religiously, but no one knew that he was a mutant, like us. I'm not saying he wasn't God's son or not, that isn't for me to say, but he was definitely blessed._

_There were others around at the time, mutants that is, and that's how Alphonse survived the ravages if time. He was deeply pious for many years, until he meet another man with gifts like his own: Elijah. Elijah is born of war and disease in the time of the black plague. _

_The two of them start the Others, a group of gifted people looking for a place to be together. They learn the extent of their powers. They can absorb the gifts of those around them, they can use them, flex them like muscles, or throw them away, purge them from their bodies._

_Then, they find me, once again in a time of war, the Revolutionary War. I was there when it all started. Together, we find this island and adopt as our own. Each of us with a specialty. A triad of sorts. Alphonse is religion, Elijah is science, and I am politics, believe it or not. We called ourselves the Seraphim, leaders of our kind. Below us are Archangels, and then the Others. To date, there has only been one Archangel, a man named Michael Gray. He is almost like us, multi-gifted, in his own way._

_**Peter Petrelli**_

"The Seraphim have kept a peace treaty, stating that one would never attack the other," Vann said, finishing his little tale. "Elijah, though, has gone mad with power, and needs to be stopped. No one but the Seraphim are powerful enough to do that. Until you, that is."

Vann looked at Peter with inquisitive eyes, searching for an answer to an unasked question. Peter gave him nothing.

"If you agree to help us, I will teach you how to use your gifts. You will be inducted to the Seraphim as Elijah's replacement, the answer to emotion, I suppose. What do you say?" Peter remained silent. "You don't understand, Peter, if we do nothing, the world will very likely end. I have seen it, and so has your friend, Hiro. It will ultimately result in your death, as well as Nathan's and Claire's. Please help us."

He thought of Nathan and Claire, and couldn't see a future without either of them. "I guess I have no choice, do I?"

"Not in the least," Vann said, with a grin.

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**New York, New York**_

The others in his team already dissipated into the hustle and bustle of New York life, returning to their various assignments. Ortega, now partner-less, was to return to HQ, and wait for Nathan to arrive. Together, the two of them were going to dig deeper into the info he picked up in Nome. Mohinder's little technopath out in Seattle was coming in to help.

Nathan took a cab from the airport back to his home, staring emptily out the window. He tried to think about how he would deal with Peter. It had been confirmed that Peter wasn't apart of the assault on the Bucharest Facility, but still, it made him realize how unfair it was to use Sylar over Pete.

He paid the cabby with a generous tip when they pulled up outside Petrelli Mansion. Nathan took the path inside, waiting to see what Heidi was going to do with him. Pete wasn't the only one hurt by this whole fiasco. He'd left Heidi in the dark about the whole thing, saying he was going on a business trip to Bucharest, and then the assault was broadcast. He was sure some news company or other had dug until they found out about Nathan's plane on the tarmac. What the hell was he going to do?

Nathan pushed open the door and stepped inside his house, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but no one was there. Heidi must be off with Peter, talking about how he did them wrong. He sighed. Sometimes, you had to make the bad decisions. It was something they learned from their father.

He stepped into the living room, and for a moment, was completely disoriented. There was Heidi, strapped to a chair with a gag in her mouth. Her eyes were wild and furious. Nathan turned around and looked into the face of the madman known as Legion.

"It's so good to see you again, Director Petrelli," the madman said. "We have been waiting so very long for you. Now, maybe the fun can begin." Legion slammed both of his fists into Nathan's forehead, and the world wavered before his eyes.

The attack kept coming, and the only noise was Legion's huffing and Heidi trying to scream through her gag. Finally, Nathan could take no more and sagged to the floor, unconscious.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Statue of Liberty, New York**_

This is where the next item was. Hiro sat down on a bench, looking around. The notebook said a number of things about this particular event, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. _A man named Alphonse approaches Claire at the Statue of Liberty._ How was he supposed to know who Alphonse was?

Hiro looked around, wondering if he would ever be able to save the future.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**New York, New York**_

Night was falling when Vann returned him to New York, but that didn't stop Peter from immediately going to look for Nathan or Claire. He needed someone at his side for this.

He stood outside Petrelli Mansion, wondering if he should even attempt to go inside. With the way things stood between him and Nathan, it would be a wonder if Nathan didn't throw him out. Pete sighed, then rang the bell. No answer. That was weird. Heidi always answered the door for him. He reached for the knob and twisted. Locked.

Peter felt fear trickle through him. Something was wrong. He stepped back and kicked the door down. Running into the living room, he too was disoriented. Nathan was knocked out on the floor, blood trickling down his face, and Heidi was wild eyed, trying to tell Pete something through a gag in her mouth.

Something hit him from behind. He crashed into the floor and spun over. Legion stepped out of the shadow, grinning. "Now that the whole family's here, the party can begin!"

Peter kicked out again, hitting Legion in the stomach and pushing him into the wall. He held his hands as he stood, letting electricity charge in them. "Legion, you just made your last mistake." Two arcs streaked from his hands, hitting Legion square in the chest and sending him flying out the window. Pete went after him.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**New York, New York**_

She stepped into the small coffee shop, hoping she didn't seem too eager. Pete and Will were the last mutants she was with, and that wasn't exactly the best place to be. They weren't exactly supportive, what with Pete being passed out and Will being a little more than oblivious of her presence. Something was going on that he didn't want her to know about, and that was okay. She had other things to worry about, like being found out by Nathan.

"Claire?" a familiar voice asked, astounded. She turned, amazed to find Gavin, the guy from Seattle. "Tell me your not Freakshow."

"'Fraid so," she said with a shrug. "Lemme guess, Shade?" He nodded, and they laughed. She took a seat across from him at his table. He pushed a cup of coffee across to her with a grin.

"A little weird, huh?" Gavin said. "Here you thought you were meeting someone new, and you get stuck with me."

"I wouldn't say stuck with," Claire said, embarrassed. "It's just that I saw Will with my uncle a bit ago, and I didn't even think of you."

"Wait, you saw Will?"

Claire nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"That little rat ran out on us," Gavin said, his smile turning to a scowl. "He said he was going off to fight someone or something."

Claire opened her mouth to speak when something came crashing through the shop window. Gavin reached over and pushed her to the ground as parking meter flew across the room, crashing into the wall. "The hell…?" she asked as she went down.

They followed the rush of people out to the street, illuminated by arcs of electricity and balls of fire being slung between two mutants. Claire pushed her way through and saw Peter standing at one end of the street, Legion at the other. The two mutants flew at each, colliding in front of the store, each hitting the other in the jaw and sending each other flying in opposite directions.

Peter crashed into a car parked outside the shop, probably by the now dislodged parking meter. Claire went to his side, kneeling. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Finishing this," Pete said with a grimace as he pushed himself up. He shot off after the crazed lunatic.

Claire looked around for Gavin, who was now at her side. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"I take it that's your uncle?" he said, grabbing her arm. She nodded. "Then I'm going with you. He might take me to Will." She nodded again, and the two went chasing after the brawl.

_**Sylar**_

_**The Hart Center Holding Facility, New York**_

He stared longingly at the painting of himself fighting himself. He didn't know what it meant, but some of the details were clear. One version of himself was dressed in white, and bore a weird symbol on his forehead, the opposite of the helix he'd seen so many times before. The other was dressed in black, wielded a scalpel, and bore the helix on his forehead. It seemed almost a religious painting. He only wished he knew how it ended.

In his mind, heard the ticking of the clock wind down, a sign of things to come. Voice argued, one determined to break out and kill again. The other, a more normalized version of himself that was vaguely familiar, pushed for a return to just being a mere clock-maker. He was ripping himself apart, mentally.

Sylar paced his cell again and again, trying to decide what to do. Sooner or later, one side would win, and he would fall prey to the endless destruction or monotony that followed. If only he knew which way was the best.

He stopped and stared at the painting. Maybe it did make sense. Maybe it was a metaphor, describing the internal struggle between Sylar and Gabriel Gray. That was all it was. So, there was one answer in this ever confusing spiral of madness.

The image blurred, distorted, and for one moment, Sylar could see into an apartment building. It was vague in his memory, but he thought it belonged to his long time nemesis, Peter Petrelli. Then, a man stepped through, a man he knew well. His cousin, Michael.

"Gabriel, I need your help," he said.

"My name is Sylar," he told what he was sure was a hallucination.

Michael put a hand on his shoulder. "Not if you don't want it to be."

Sylar looked up, and for a split second, the image was there on the wall again, burning in his mind. It wasn't just a metaphor. He would have to pick one: Sylar or Gabriel. Which is it? Then, he was following Michael through the portal, into the apartment of Peter Petrelli.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Statue of Liberty, New York**_

_Damn it all, _he thought, throwing up his barrier as another fireball was flung at him. Legion just wouldn't stay down. Peter's power negation bracelet was long gone, but he seemed to have a grip on his powers. He wasn't displaying anything different, other than his hands starting to flame up once in a while. He knew he was absorbing powers at an alarming rate, and soon he would lose control. Until then, he would fight like the devil.

He tossed out another arc of lightening, striking a metal pole just to the left of his target. Legion went right, and Peter feed him a jet of fire. When he let the flame die, Legion stood there, burnt scars all over his face. They slowly healed. "You can thank you buddy, Gabriel, for that one," Legion taunted, before reaching telekinetically out to lift a car.

Pete reached out and grabbed the car as it swung over his head. He exerted all of his strength to keep it away, but not let it go flying out over the crowd the fight had drawn. Legion started tossing fireballs at him, making Pete have to choose between defending himself from them or the car. Never before had he accessed two powers at once, and didn't know if it could be done at all. He tried anyway, praying silently.

The force-field burst into life in front of him. Legion lost control on the car, and it flew on top of him, crushing him. As the car flew up, Pete sent arcs of electricity out of both hands, alternating.

A voice called to him from the crowd, and Pete turned. A katana was in the air, coming towards him. He knew where it came from. _Hiro._ Pete saw him in the crowd.

Peter snatched the blade out of the air, and spun, letting the scabbard slide off, then he sliced into Legion as he struggled to his feet. Blood splattered Peter's shoes. As the slash across Legion's chest healed, Peter brought down the blade again and again, taking limbs with the sword. Legion continued to heal. He took a deep breath and spun again, the sword held out. He let it slice through Legion's neck, taking off his head cleanly.

He stood over the fallen madman, feeling a rush of triumph burn through his veins. Pete wiped the sword off on his pants, turning to look for Hiro. The small Japanese man was there at his side, ready to take back the katana, hilt in hand. "Thank you, Hiro," Pete said, putting a hand on his friends shoulder.


	24. Treading Madness

_**Will Stone**_

_**Rural New York**_

The three of them spoke softly in the room, so Will and the rest couldn't hear. The one called Smokey paced back and forth across the small barn, while Noel and Kate played some card game or another. Will sat on a bench next to the ever bizarre Wyrm. He'd only heard the man, or boy, speak a few times, each made him sound a little brain addled.

"We're a family!" Wyrm had said, coming the through the portal from Peter's apartment. "Michael's the dad, and Elle's the mom, and Gabriel's the uncle you never talk about!" He'd spoken with such jubilation that the stoic Smokey cracked a smile.

Odd as Wyrm was, Will felt an instant attachment to him. Will couldn't tell the exact age of the strange lad, but Elle made it seem as if he was a lot younger than he looked. Wyrm was tall, taller than Will, and he was thin and lanky. He could be twenty, he could be sixteen. Only The Powers That Be knew for sure. As for the other two he was left with, Will didn't care for much. Smokey didn't say word one to Will, and Kate seemed to wrapped up in the gray-haired man.

Time ticked by in his ears from a clock in the main farm house. Will had no idea how he could hear it, but that along with every sound amplified in his mind and made his head ache. It muffled the noise of the talking elders he strained to hear. Elle, Gabriel, and Michael spoke quietly, discussing something of great importance. Will could only pick up a few words over the clock and the cow farts.

He leapt to his feet with an exasperated sigh. "Good lord! What are they yapping about?"

Smokey looked up from his cards, glaring. "Things you could never understand, stranger."

"Try me, punk!" Will said, aiming his foot at the small of Smokey's back, but Wyrm leapt in front of him, shaking his head, silently. On his face was a look of utter horror. It made Will wonder what kind of life this guy lived. Instead of kicking the gray-hair, he stepped outside, lighting a cigarette.

Will stared up at the stars, wondering if Mackenzie was looking up at the same stars as him. He doubted it, but wished for it at the same time.

The burning embers on the tip of his cigarette burned his fingers, and he looked down to see that it had burned down to a butt. He threw it the ground and stepped on it.

"It's easy to lose yourself in them," Elle's voice said from the barn door. She stepped over to stand next to Will, looking up. "If I know you type, you're looking for something, some reasoning for your talents. Am I right?" Will said nothing, and she went on. "Of course you are. All of us are. That's our purpose in life; to seek answers to questions that can't be answered by mortal men. Michael taught me that."

"I just want to be heard," Will said, barely audible, but Elle nodded just the same.

"You're screaming in the dark, and no one answers," she said. "It's a scary thing. It's even worse when someone answers." She pulled the neck of her shirt down, and showed him a pair of lines on her neck. "Gifts of the Company. It's where I meet him. He saved me, you know? Before this, I was only concerned with myself, trying desperately to please my father, eager to be seen as a goddess in his eyes. He worked for the Company, you see. Michael pulled me from their grasp when he escaped with the Others. He, well, you'll see if you stick around."

"What do you mean, if I stick around?" Will asked.

"You have a choice, you know? You always do. If you want, I can have Wyrm send you back to the apartment we found you in. You can go on living you life in ignorance of greater things. Or, you can come with us, looking for answers, together."

She held out her hand, waiting for him to take it. Will knew what she wanted him to do, to decide. Taking her hand was only a metaphoric thing. All he had to do was nod, and he was in with this little rag-tag group of oddballs and mentally handicapped people. Say yes. Grunt. Something, and he had a place in the world, one where he was fully accepted as he was. He wouldn't be resented for his talents the way Mackenzie did. Sure, she loved him, or he thought she did, but she still wanted to be like him or Teagan. Gifted. That was what everyone wanted, wasn't it? To be special?

He took her hand.

_**Alphonse**_

_**The Statue of Liberty, New York**_

He sat on a bench, unaware of anyone around him, invisible to them all. He had to call out to the one he sought, but that was nothing new. It was the people searching for him that threw him off balance. Who could know about his hand in this mix of catastrophe and rebirth? Two thousand years, and the only people who knew about him were those he let know. Now, a man of Japanese decent sat only five feet away, waiting for him to arrive, unaware that he sat on the other end of the bench.

He knew who the Japanese man was, knew what the future held in store for him, what hurdles he would have to cross, what battles he would have to fight, what loves he would have, everything, and still he didn't care. It would all be gone in the blink of an eye. As it was, Alphonse wasn't even in New York; he sat in his stronghold, cross-legged, sending forth his awareness to New York in search of the Woman Michael sought, despite the fact that she was not quite a woman. He knew what Vann would do to prevent this. He knew of the Great War that would come of it. The Prometheus Group versus the Followers of Vann. The two usurpers, Elijah and Vann, false prophets of war who were bringing their own predictions to fruition.

If only to warn the Woman, everything might be okay. Then again, the agents of Vann were already in New York, ready to strike when the order came down. Soon the storm would break, this very night in fact. The one known as Claire Bennet must stick close to those that love her. Without that warning, it might all be lost not a year from now.

He pulled his legs under him, and sent forth another section of his essence to cull Claire from her dreams to this place.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**The Statue of Liberty, New York**_

Hiro sat on a bench, tired, yawning, and watching the sun come up. Just last night, Peter Petrelli slew a demon in human form, and was taken by the forces known as The Agency world round. His own brother Nathan slapped the cuffs of him, and loaded him into a helicopter. He would be out by nightfall. Hiro knew this. It was in the book.

Nathan asked Hiro to show up around noon for questioning, and he planned to go, if only he could find this damned Alphonse. He had no idea what he was looking for

"Hiro!" a familiar voice called. He turned to spy Ando and Sakura rushing towards him, carrying a bag each.

(Ando, how did you find me?) Hiro asked.

It was Sakura who spoke. (You left behind your notebook for so long, we copied it into a computer and have been trying to catch up to you for days!)

(You gave us a scare, Hiro) Ando said. He put a hand on the shoulder of his friend, and Hiro felt his heart leap out. It was the hand that future Ando was missing. He could contain no longer. He told Ando everything that would happen to him in the future, complete with missing hand and eye.

Ando fell silent, contemplating the course. Sakura sat, smiling at Hiro. There would be no convincing her to stay behind, but maybe he could save Ando. He had to.

"Well," Ando said, after a long moment passed. "It seems clear that this guy isn't showing up, or that we won't be able to do anything about it. We might as well head out. The storm's starting at seven pm, at Kirby Plaza. We'd better get prepared."  
Ando smiled big, and Hiro tried to, knowing that something bad would happen. He let Ando and Sakura lead him away from the Statue of Liberty.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Peter's Apartment**_

She moaned in her sleep, lightly. Someone was calling her, and she couldn't get away. She opened her eyes to find herself at the feet of the Statue of Liberty. Everything moved about her slowly, dreamlike. She tried to grab someone, but they just shivered and walked right through her.

"They can't see or hear you, young one," a man sitting on a bench said. He was nothing she ever would have expected. He looked about thirteen, with short blonde hair and tanned skin. "I see questions in your eyes. Sit, I have the answers."

Claire did, sitting as far from him as she could. "Who are you?"

"They call me Alphonse, the All-Gifted, even though I am not," the boy said. "I am but like your uncle, Peter Petrelli. Empathic Mimicry in action for over two thousand years."

"You can't be that old," Claire said.

"Believe it or not, but I have much to tell you, Claire, and I need you to believe it all." Alphonse looked her square in the eyes, black eyes twinkling. "There is a war coming, and you will be the one everyone seeks to destroy."

"Why me?" Claire asked. "Why is always me?"

Alphonse shook his head. "It won't be for you, Claire. It will be for the abilities you hold onto. You shall be the carrier of the All-Gift, taking it into the next generation. A man will come to you, after the storm passes. He will gift you with the greatest thing you will ever know in your everlasting lifetime, if you live, that is. Tonight, you must be with Gavin Stone. He will get you through the storm. Most of all, you must avoid the Petrelli's. Danger lurks around them like never before, and one of them will most likely fall in the coming battle."

"Who?" Claire asked, thinking about Peter and Nathan.

"That is not for you to know. Know only that when the morning comes, you will turn to those left standing, and they will keep you safe. There is a number of people who you must gather together for the coming war, if anyone is to survive it. Hiro Nakamura, any of the remaining Petrelli's, Gavin Stone, Will Stone, Teagan Wilkes, Billy Jamison. There will be more coming to you after the storm, but if these people live through the night, it will be them who will aide you the most."

"What do you mean if? You talk as if you know the future, and you tell me if? What kind of wise man are you?"

Alphonse laughed, a sweet, innocuous noise that would bring a smile to the lips of any as sentimental as a stone or more so. "Claire Bennet, nothing is written in stone! The future isn't a book you can read, if is river that flows, a wind that blows. It is wild, ever changing, a masterpiece, an epic of untold proportions, and it will come whether we want it to or not. I cannot see who will live, and neither can Hiro Nakamura, the time-traveler. Already he has changed the future, in ways no one could have foreseen. Just know, he told his friend Ando of the atrocities and madness that would befall him if kept on with the quest. Still Ando goes, but Hiro is ever vigilant in his protection of his friend. Tell me, do you think Hiro will let any bad thing befall his friend, if he could help it?"

Claire shook her head.

"That's right, he wouldn't," Alphonse looked out over the water. "My time is nearly up. Please, if you do nothing else I have said, meet with Gavin Stone tonight around seven. I will see you soon, dear. Take care."

Claire felt herself drift, and the Statue of Liberty faded to black. She shot up in Peter's guest bed, sweating and a sour taste on her tongue. Her hair settled from the wind that blew out at the Statue, letting her know this wasn't a dream.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Hart Center Detainment, New York**_

Peter didn't look into the mirror. He knew what was in there, and he couldn't stand to see it. He was now a killer. Sure he was defending himself, sure he saved lives, but he still killed the loon who called himself Legion. Worst of all, he wanted to do it. He wanted to do more damage to the man, but he was beyond his grasp now.

He sobbed silently into the cot's pillow, hoping that the Agents weren't watching him now.

How could he live with himself, knowing he killed a man, even a murderer who was threatening his family? Beside, what about all the property damage caused by the fight that went all across the city?

The door opened, and Pete was ready to send Nathan away. It wouldn't have been the first time Nathan tried to speak with Pete. Why stop now? But when he looked up, he found Heidi's eyes staring intently into his. Suddenly, everything was okay. Yes, he killed Legion, but he had to.

Heidi's left eye was bruised badly, her lip scared from a cut, bruises all up and down her arm, and that was just what Peter could see. He could feel her pain coming off in waves. She couldn't defend herself from a madman like Legion. He did what he had to do.

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Hart Center Detainment, New York**_

He peered into the monitor with jealousy in his heart. Nathan couldn't remember the last time Heidi looked at him like that, and Pete never looked so okay with things except when he was with Simone. Nathan felt uncomfortable, thinking about all the times he sent Heidi to deal with Peter recently. What had he done?

_(A/N – So ends part three, the next few chapters or so will end the season. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far. Next update, the storm begins, and you will begins to see the sparks fly._

_I would also like to give a personal thanks to everyone who reviewed. Your words keep me inspired to keep writing this. Especially marinawings. Thank you. – Traumedy101)_


	25. The Storm Season Finale

_(A/N - I decided rather than to stretch it out into a bunch of tiny chapters, I'd put the whole thing together. Now, I don't think I'll be updating for a few days at least, while I work on the next series of thirty or so chapters. I have a basic idea of what I want so far, so it shouldn't take too long, but i also want to start a new story following Will and Wyrm's little adventure in the World of W,_

_As for Season Three, it will be called God's Among Men, and I already have one Major Twist in store. I'll continue updating the season's here, but Will's Story will probably be a new story._

_ So, please enjoy the finale of All-Gift. - Traumedy101)_

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Peter Petrelli's Apartment**_

_**5:16 pm**_

She sat, glued to the television, waiting to see if a storm was coming in. So far, all of the weather-guys said that it was going to be a beautiful day. Claire leaned back and sighed. It was just a dream. She stood up, ready to go about her life, no longer in fear of the mysterious Alphonse.

Outside, rain hit the windows.

Claire hopped into the shower for a quick cleaning before her date with Gavin. She hoped everything went okay this time. They never caught up with Peter the day before, and they never found Will, but Gavin agreed to try again.

Drying her hair, she looked in the mirror, happy with what she saw. She dressed quickly, trying to look her best. Gavin wasn't just a mutant, or older. No, he actually was fun to be around and he was good looking. This could actually go somewhere.

Thunder shook the house, and Claire nearly screamed. She ran out to Peter's TV, flipping through the several news channels. Each one, only moments ago saying it was going to be a beautiful day, were now saying that people should take caution going outside, as the storm was going to be dangerous.

The doorbell rang, and Claire rushed to it, hoping it would be someone who could help settle her nerves. Instead, it was Gavin. He had a dopey smile on his face. "It's pretty wet out here," he said, holding up an umbrella. "I'll keep you dry."

The memory of the small child flashed through her mind again. Alphonse had said to go with Gavin, that he would keep her safe throughout the storm. What was she going to do?

Forcing herself to smile, Claire stepped out in the hall, pulling the door shut behind her.

_**Vann**_

_**San Ribero**_

_**6:19 pm**_

His two agents stood before him like messengers from God. They knew they had a mission tonight, and they knew it would take them into the heart of the most dangerous part of the world. New York, into the eye of the storm, where there was no calm. He smiled at them, proud. They would serve him well.

"You know what you have to do. I give you full absolution." He looked at the one who called himself W. "Outside of the one I told you about, as long as there are not an Other, knock yourself out."

W nodded, knowing full well what he could do without reproach. Vann needed no one to be the wiser to his little plot, and W could blow it by screwing around with the wrong people. If Alphonse found out…

Well, Vann couldn't let that happen. It was now or never.

He watched his two agents leave through a portal created by W. W had the gift of inter-dimensional transportation. He could leave this world if he wanted to. W had once confided that he created a world beyond this one, strictly for his personal collection. It was there he was sending his target, and anyone else who fit his bill, as long as they weren't another.

The Agent called himself Atom, and he was a talented individual, kind of like Legion was. Instead of merging, Atom could rip people's personalities into two separate entities. He was going to add Sylar to their stables one way or another.

_**Elijah**_

_**The Prometheus Building, Sydney, Australia**_

_**6:30 pm**_

Elijah knew what Vann was planning, and had his own little safety net in place. His own agents, the Davenports to be exact, were heading to start a new project. Phaethon would be the grandest thing Elijah had ever set in motion. Mutants ready to fight against the Normals; nobody would see it coming.

He looked at the file open on his desk before him. Teagan Wilkes, Pyrokinesis. She would be a great addition to Phaethon. If only she would come in easily. That was the problem with the All-Gift program, getting people to cooperate. He trusted James to deal with her fairly, and get ever ounce of cooperation the girl had.

Elijah let a thin smile cross his lips. Starting tomorrow, the war begins.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Hart Center Detainment, Kirby Plaza, New York**_

_**6:57 pm**_

Peter stood at the fountain in front of the Hart Center, remembering what happened only five months ago to the day. He'd stood there, waiting to see what would happen. Would he be the destroyer, or the savior of New York?

As it happened, he would be the destroyer. It was the killer who was the savior, the good guy so to speak. Then from out of nowhere, Nathan had saved him from what he was, against their mother's wishes, who only recanted on her death bed.

He shut his eyes, trying to force out the memories, only to give them more leverage. Was really only five months ago?

"Peter?" a voice asked, so timid, Peter barely heard it. The voice came again. "Superman?"

Peter opened his eyes, once again finding himself in a sense of odd déjà vu. Jon stood there, the energy absorber. He was glowing a faint blue color, and sending off sparks at an incredible rate. They didn't seem to damage anything, but Pete knew what they meant. Jon had lost control again. Wasn't it Pete who was supposed to lose control? "What?" he asked.

"I need you to help me," Jon said, so afraid to even move. Peter looked up into the sky to see what was taking Nathan so long. "You stopped me before. Can you do it again?"

Pete nodded slowly, dreamlike. It was happening again, and this time, it wasn't him that was going to explode. He knew the feeling of helplessness. He reached out and grabbed Jon around the waist and took off into the sky.

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Hart Center, New York**_

_**7:03 pm**_

He watched out the window, wondering what was wrong with him. Pete and Heidi, never happen. But then again, with everything Nathan had done wrong in the last year alone, why shouldn't Heidi seek out someone else, someone who could love her the way she deserved? At least it was Pete. Pete would treat her the way Nathan himself should have done for so long. He wouldn't give up if she was paralyzed, wouldn't try to hide the miracle of her walking again, and wouldn't cheat on her in Vegas because the pressure was building up so tightly in his chest he felt like exploding. At least it was Pete, one of the good guys.

_Speak of the devil, _he thought, watching Pete fly away from the Hart center, carrying someone in their arms. _Heidi,_ Nathan said to himself. He stepped into the elevator, half aware of what he was doing, and pressed the top floor. It wasn't really a floor at all. It led to the roof, where Nathan sometimes came into work through. Before he realized it, he was on the edge of the roof, leaping off and following Peter and Heidi to what ever distant love shack they had.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Kirby Plaza, New York**_

_**7:12 pm**_

Hiro stepped up to the fountain, flanked by Ando and Sakura. They looked up in time to see Nathan fly off. Already the rain was falling heavily, and thunder threatened to tear the world in two. It was like no storm Hiro had ever seen, and he doubted he would ever see anything like it again. The lightening that arced in the clouds was bluish and scary.

"Well, what are we going to do?" Ando asked, "The storm's started already, and there's nothing we can do about it."

Hiro shrugged, looking in the other direction.

The sword came out of nowhere, slicing down the left side of Ando's face. A Japanese woman landed on her feet and charged Hiro, screaming battle cries. Sakura ripped open her bag, pulled out the long sword and meet the newcomer's challenge.

Kensei stepped out to face Hiro. "It's been a long time coming, Carp. Now, you face what you did to me, so many years ago."  
Lightening struck the top of The Agency HQ, nearly hiding the ancient samurai's attack, but Hiro whipped his katana out in time to save his neck. The plaza in front of the tall building was filled with the clanging of swords.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**The Mutant Club, New York**_

_**7:30 pm**_

She and Gavin sat at the bar, watching the television. It seemed everyone's attention was on it. They were talking about the storm outside, and how the president called in a state of emergency. Tornado's had touched down in Albany, and were spinning out of control to the northwest of Manhattan. Several buildings were on fire just in the City itself, and God alone knows how many else where.

On top of all that, the Storm seemed to be moving to the west, now centered somewhere over Kansas. That held Gavin's attention the most. He still had family in Kansas, and Claire held his hand in sympathy for them.

The weather cut out, and it was replaced by the face of the man who took over after Nathan resigned his post. Senator Fred Armstrong was a dour man, frowning as he began speaking:

_Ladies and Gentlemen of America, today we face a new crisis. The storm that has ravaged most of the east coast now has a source. It was started by a mutant by the name of Jonathan Baker. As of yet, Mr. Baker has yet to come forward to cease his attack on this country, and it doesn't seem like he will._

The power went out in the club, and it was followed by several screams of people being startled. Outside the club, there was new sound; the sound of angry people. They must have heard about the Mutant who started the storm.

The doors were ripped down, and the place flooded with people attacking mutants. Claire had only time to see one young man pull a gun and shoot a mutant, before Gavin grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out the back door.

The streets were worse than she thought. It was filled with wild people looting and screaming and attacking each other. "Oh my god," she said, now feeling a fear unlike any she ever had before, not even when she was staring at Peter as he was about to explode.

_**Ando **__**Masahashi**_

_**Kirby Plaza, New York**_

_**7:33 pm**_

The fight went on unabate before him, despite the fires burning through the city, the wild cry of rioters, or even the fact that Ando laid nearby bleeding from his now defunct left eye. He should have stayed at home, he should have listened to Hiro.

With his one good eye left, he saw Sakura being beaten down by the small armed woman. Sakura couldn't handled the wild attacks from her. Ando pushed himself up as Sakura dropped her sword and prepared to admit defeat.

Her attackers sword went up, and Ando shot forward, screaming loudly. Hiro glanced over, and Ando saw him try and stop time, but the samurai kept attacking and he never had a good chance.

Ando felt no pain. Sakura was now three feet away, and her attacker had brought down the sword on his left hand. It lay on the ground between the three of them. He balled up his remaing hand and rammed it into the woman's stomach. There was only so much you could take.

Green smoke started pouring out of her pores, and Ando lost his sense of balance. Despite this, and the throbbing in his eye and hand, he slammed his head into hers, knocking her out. Standing there, he watched through a wavery eye Hiro fighting the ancient samurai even more furiously. Ando fell to his knees, even more dizzy than before.

(Hiro! Cover your eyes!) Sakura shouted. Hiro kicked the samurai in the stomach and slammed his eyes shut. Ando didn't bother, even though he knew what was coming. The world filled with a bright flash off light that blinded his one remained eye. He heard the samurai give a shout of bewilderment, then Ando was lifted under his right arm.

When the world came back to him, Sakura was helping him to his feet, moving away from Hiro's fight. (Wait, I have to help Hiro,) Ando said, miserably.

Sakura shook her head, and Ando did the one thing he's wanted to do since he laid eyes on her at the Hart Center in Japan. He kissed her. Amidst the violence all around them, the throbbing near-ache of his wounds, and the rain coming down, Ando kissed her, and it surprised him so much when she kissed him back. He could hardly remember anything after that.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Kirby Plaza, New York**_

_**7:45**__** pm**_

He saw Sakura ease Ando into their rental car, and then he turned full force on Kensei. "There is only so much you can do," the samurai said. "You are not the hero here, Carp. That will always be me. You took her from me, you liar."

Hiro didn't wait. He spun his katana around, taking Kensei at the neck. "Once again, you have made me rip out my heart," Hiro said, as he watched head and body tumble to the ground, serperatly.

_**Will Stone**_

_**Outside New York**_

_**8:33 pm**_

The barn was on fire. The two attackers hit hard and unseen. Will and Wyrm were cut off from everyone else, running through the fields surrounding the area. Of everything he knew about what they were running from, it scared the hell out of him. Michael was down, bleeding from a gunshot wound. Elle was trying to pull him from the fire. Gabriel was nowhere to be seen. Smokey and Kate were running, too, only in the other direction.

The world opened up in front of them, wavering, sucking Wyrm inside. Will stopped. "What the hell?" He looked at the portal, wondering if Wyrm had made it. He doubted it, because Wyrm would have taken them both back to the barn for the others.

"Who are you?" a man said, coming up behind Will.

"Who are you?" Will asked, trying to take in everything about this man in only a glance. The man had a tattoo on his left and right arm. Both of them were the same thing; a letter; W.

"I asked first," he said, with a smirk. "You not one of us, are you? You're not an Other?" Will shook his head, and W kicked him in the chest, pushing him into the portal.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Somewhere in Kansas**_

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Somewhere in Kansas**_

_**9:00 pm**_

It wasn't working this time, and now storms were raging all around the world. How many times did they cicle the globe? Pete could no longer remember, and he was losing whatever strenght he had left. He set Jon down in a field, not knowing where he was, not caring. He lost.

"What is it?" Jon asked, his heart failing from overload. Blood was pouring out his eyes, his nose, mouth, ears, probably other holes in his body as well. Peter fell to his knees, barely able to stand.

"I can't do it; I can't go on," he said, choking. He could hardly get air in his body, let alone carry this guy until he caught on and flew himself.

From out of the air, Nathan landed. He went straight to his brother's side. "What's going on?"

"He can't stop, Nathan," Pete said, gasping for air. " If he doesn't discharge soon, he'll explode. Not like I almost did, Nathan." He pulled himself up on Nathan's coat. "Worse." He then collapsed, fainted dead away.

When he came to, Pete still held Nathan's coat in his fist. Niether Nathan or Jon were anywhere he could see. He looked up, in time to see a massive explosion, well beyond any that Peter could ever have done.

Peter stood, putting on Nathan's coat and sticking his hands in the pockets. He felt a small spiral notebook, and he pulled it out. On the top sheet was a note to Peter, from Nathan.

_Pete, it what you say is true, than the only to fix this is to fly him beyond the earth's atmosphere, where he'll either die peacefully or he can explode safely. I only wish I had more time to tell you how much I love you and I'm proud of you. You always did everything you could, and there for a while, I lived like I thought you would have. Strange as it is, this is probably goodbye. I doubt if anyone could survive what I have to do. I won't drag this out; I have to get him out of here now. Take care of Heidi and the boys for me, if I don't come back. Pete, do everyone proud, like you have done me. Love, Nathan._

Pete stood there, reading the note again and again, realizing slowly what the explosion meant. In all his life, he never felt more alone than he did right now. Who was going to take care of him, if he stepped wrong? Who was going to remind him that he couldn't do everything? What did he have left?

"Pete," Vann called from behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Pete, I know you're grieving, but we have to get started as soon as possible on teaching you how to use your gift. Come on, we have to go."

He let Vann led him away from the last place he'd ever see Nathan, unaware that the storm had stopped.

**End of Season 2, All-Gift**

_Epilouge_

_Nathan Petrelli_

_Over the World_

_Nathan was loosing focus. First, he spent his time chasing Peter and this guy around the world, and now here he was, trying to speed as far from Earth as he could. He was losing it. Jon died somewhere between here and now, but the sparks seemed to have increased in magnitude, if anything. They were burning his skin, and it hurt so bad._

_Nathan gave on last leap, letting go of Jon, flinging him out of the atmosphere and into space. He shut his eyes, falling asleep, and fell._


	26. One Week After: Season Premiere

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**New York, New York**_

_**One Week Later**_

Gavin pulled the shadows down from the buildings, give them safe passage passed the soldiers. The whole city went nuts after the storm, and now the entire state was under Martial Law. The Agency was headed by Senator Fred Armstrong, and there were rumors of his brutality flying around like flies on a dead horse. Gavin and Claire were halfway to Petrelli Mansion, where Claire hoped to find safe haven, and maybe a way out of the city.

"So, this guy, this kid, Alphonse, told you about the storm and a war, and to find these people?" Gavin asked, while they waited for the perfect moment to sneak past another group of guards. Claire nodded, staring intently at the mob of soldiers. _Peaceful search, my ass, _she thought, watching their guns. _If Gavin wasn't here, she could get past them no problem. Let them shoot her._ "I was one of those names?"

"If you're Gavin Stone, then I was told to find you," she said in a low hiss. Time was running out, and they were no closer to finding any of the people than she was the day before this, or the day before that one, and so on. No one had seen Peter or Nathan since the night of the storm. Hiro Nakamura's face was posted everywhere, wanted for murder. Will Stone had fallen of the face of the earth. And she never even heard of Billy Jamison!  
As for the two sisters on that list, both of them were gone as well. Gavin and Claire had found their abandonded hotel room just last night, when she decided to go see Heidi. "This is just crazy," Gavin said, pulling down another sheet of darkness to hid them as they ran.

"Any crazier than manipulation shadows?" Claire asked. "How about rapidly healing from any wound? Or sending out waves of sound, jets of fire, or even flying? Because it's all happening, somewhere."

"Point taken," Gavin said, giving in to the ex-cheerleaders will. Once she had an idea set in her mind, there was no stopping her. "All I'm trying to say is New York is no longer the greatest city in the world."

Peeking around the corner, Claire spotted the soldiers hassling a young girl, probably a mutant. Her blood boiled, and she pointed it out to Gavin.

He shrugged. "What can we do? They've got guns, and we're unarmed. Don't forget, you're also on the most wanted list now."

Claire scowled. "If you won't help, fine. I'll do it myself." She took off down the street, yelling at the guards to leave the girl alone. One by one, the soldiers brought their guns up and pointed them at Claire.

"Oh, son of monkey," Gavin said, exercising his power and pulling darkness into the soldiers eyes. Then, he took off after Claire. He snagged her as she leapt, trying to tackle one of the soldiers. "C'mon, she got away already. We have to go." He tugged her into an abandoned building to rest for the night. The sun was almost up, and they would be looking for Claire.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle, Washington**_

He watched as the strange young man brought Ando into a back room, eager to test something out on him. Hiro knew what it was; the mechanical hand. Ando already bore the eye patch he wore in the future.

Sakura slept in one of the chairs. It had been a hard week for them all. Hiro had managed to cross off five things from the notebook: flood in Bucharest; a small fight in Australia; a child dying at birth. He didn't know what effects they would have on the future, but it was in the notebook, so he attending them.

An Indian man approached Hiro and Sakura, rubbing his hands together. He didn't look at all well. When he got there, he stuck his hand out to Hiro. Hiro shook it.

"I've heard a lot about you from Nathan Petrelli," the Indian man said. "I also know you're wanted by the authorities for murder. Don't worry; you're as safe here as you could be anywhere else. My name is Mohinder Suresh."

Hiro gave a slight bow to Mohinder. He'd heard of Mohinder's research when Ando filled him in on the past. "Why don't you turn me in?" Hiro asked.

"I'm under orders not to," Mohinder said. "Ordinarily, I would, but I was informed of your working for Nathan Petrelli in a special ops mission by my new boss. I've also been instructed to offer you and your companions one of our field offices. If you would, follow me."

Hiro woke Sakura, and they followed Mohinder to the elevator.

"I don't know how much you are aware of, but New York has been sealed off, and their forcing mutants to register, on penalty of death. I know that you aren't in the database, and I recommend you keep it that way." Mohinder led them onto an upper floor, and Hiro saw a number of faces that looked somewhat familiar. From the Bucharest mission, Hiro spotted both Ridge and Ortega. They didn't acknowledge Hiro's presence.

He also saw a number of other agents he recognized from the news. Kit Frost and Ashley Tisdale, the two who hunted the mutant killer, Samael. As far as Hiro knew, nothing so far had been done about the man.

Mohinder opened a door to a small room that contained two beds, and a desk. "You and Ando will stay here; you're female friend will be given the room next door."

Hiro helped Sakura into the other room, where she promptly fell asleep. Then, he went into the agent bull-pen. Mohinder was talking on a phone, with his back turned to Hiro.

"I'm a scientist, damn it!" he said, trying to keep his voice down. "I don't harbor criminals, nor am I a hotel bagboy! Do something about this, or you may just lose my loyalty!"

Hiro moved on, trying to speak with the others from the Bucharest mission, but they all seemed to busy to answer Hiro's questions. Slightly depressed, he returned to his room and laid down, trying to get some rest before tackling the next thing on the list.

_**Gabriel Gray**_

_**New York, New York**_

Michael's last minutes on earth replayed again and again in Gabriel's head. Gabriel's cousin laid his hands on his head, speaking in low tones, gifting him with some unknown talent. Then, the strange man came bursting in, carrying a pistol, with which, he ended Michael's life.

The man then came after Gabriel, and with one touch, knocked him out. He woke up hours later in the same barn, with no sign from any of the Others. He wandered back into the New York City, powered by will alone, and remembered what it was that Michael had whispered to him. _Find Claire Bennet. Gift her._

It made no sense to him, but he did it anyway, and now he was almost to the Petrelli Mansion, thinking that in this time, that's where Claire would go.

He saw a woman exiting the mansion, and he hurried up behind her. "Claire?" he asked.

The woman spun around, and Gabriel saw he was mistaken. It must be Nathan's wife. She lowered the can of mace, and sighed. "No, she isn't here. I haven't seen here since, well, I guess you know." She looked at him for a moment, and Gabriel was sure she was going to recognize him. Then she shook her head. "You must be that friend she came back to visit. I'm sorry. I have to go, otherwise, I'd invite you in for some coffee and to wait for her to come back, but…" She stopped, tearing up.

Gabriel reached out and wiped away one of the tears that ran down her cheek. "It's okay; I know who you are, Mrs. Petrelli. Good luck finding them all."

She thanked him and got into the car, leaving Gabriel to fade into the failing darkness. Dawn was soon upon them.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**San Ribero**_

The island was larger than he imagined, and he thought it was strange that he'd never heard of it before. San Ribero was just beyond the horizon of California. Vann lead Peter up the stairs to what appeared to be a temple. He spoke of being respectful. Peter ignored him.

As they got to the top of the stairs, Vann pushed open the door, and motioned for Peter to enter. As soon as he did, the doors closed, and a voice called out to him. "So, you are Peter Petrelli." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Pete said. "Who are you?"

A small chuckle. "You're just like me when I was you're age." A small boy, about eight or nine stepped forward. "I'm like you, Peter, a empathic mimic. My name is Alphonse." He cocked his head, looking at Pete intently. "Do you hear that, Peter?"

Peter shook his head.

"That, is destiny calling," Alphonse said. "It is the sound of war drums on the horizon, the sound of blood falling to the ground in floods. We headed for a great war, perhaps the greatest and most important one in history. The question is, which side are you on?"

Peter shrugged, and the young boy laughed.

"And that is how it should be."

_(A/N – I know it's a small chapter, but I thought it was better to start off with a bit vaguer of a storyline. This is it, the third season premier. The first story arc is called The Siege, for obvious reasons. I gave up the idea of a spin-off following Will and his trip in another world, as I felt it didn't have enough of a drive to merit it's own story_

_I know there are a number of people who are upset about the death of Nathan, and I feel compelled to explain myself. Nathan is perhaps the greatest crutch of Peter. When ever Peter needs help, Nathan is there. Without Nathan, Peter is forced to become the hero that is needed of him. Besides, where would Spider-Man be if not for the death of Uncle Ben? _

_With that said, I welcome you all back, and thank you for reading. Please Enjoy! Traumedy101)_


	27. Outside New York

_**Claire Bennet **_

_**Petrelli Mansion, New York**_

The massive house stood empty, still bearing slight scars from Peter's fight with Legion, God knew how long ago. Claire cursed herself; she'd decided that Heidi had to be here, and now she wasn't. Gavin seemed bored by the whole thing; Claire thought he was being ridiculous over the scuffle with the soldiers last night.

"Well?" he asked.

Claire shrugged. "She must have left," she said, watching Gavin roll his eyes.

"Of course she left! She's married to one of the most powerful mutants in the free world! You don't think they plan on letting her just walk away, do you? Hell no! She's a valuable playing piece! Imagine if, say, Lex Luthor kidnapped Lois Lane. Superman would more than likely kill him trying to get her back. They plan on using her to draw out Nathan and Peter.

"You know, if you have a better idea, than I'd like to hear it!"

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Gavin shouted. "There's nothing left here for either of us! We need to get somewhere where there aren't soldiers who want to kill us!"

"Like Kansas?" Claire asked. She knew what he was trying to do, but couldn't help fighting back. This was her plan, and it failed. Her pride was injured, and he was just trying to find a safe place to lay his head at night. "That's all you think about, is getting back to Kansas. I don't know I even brought you here." She threw her hands up and stormed off.

A few minutes later, Gavin joined her, with a slight grin on his face. "This was a good idea, it just didn't pan out. Now we need something new." His eyebrows went up. "We need to get out of New York; I don't care where, just not here."

Claire nodded, finally giving up on the Petrelli family to save her. This was something she had to do on her own. "Then let's get a move on it; there's a lot of state to cover." They headed east through the city.

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle, Washington**_

He burst through the front doors, looking wild. His mind reached out, touching everyone in the building's mind, frantic for Molly. He found her, up on the thirtieth floor, along with Hiro Nakamura.

It was about time the fortunes changed. Now they could head to New York and take back the city. Matt speed towards the elevator, cutting off a number of people before bursting into the small room. _I'm coming, Molly, _he sent to her.

_I know,_ he heard her think back at him.

Matt laid a hand on the butt of his gun. He didn't know if Armstrong reached this facility or just if he stayed in the New York offices, but he was ready if someone made a move to stop him. The Senator's men were worse than the supped-up loonies he dealt with, much worse, because they were sanctioned by the US government. He slid his gun out of the holster and held it behind his back, thinking only of rescuing Molly and getting her to Hiro. He could get her out of here a lot faster than Matt ever could.

Unless they got Hiro already. Damn it! Matt slammed his fist into the elevator walls. There was too much doubt now. Who could he trust? He started to pace. Where the hell was Nathan, anyway? He was supposed to keep this crap from happening. Or Peter. That little brat could do so much if only he'd just show his cowardly face.

The doors slid open, and he made to bring his gun up, until her eyes settled on him; her piercing green eyes. If there was anyone left in the world he could trust, it would be Heidi Petrelli. "Agent Parkman," she said, sounding rather distant, like Nathan did when it came to business. "I'd like to say that it's good to see you're finally reporting for duty, but I don't think that's why you're here, is it? She looked down at the gun.

Matt quickly tucked the gun back in his holster. "I'm sorry; I didn't know if I could trust anyone here."

"Don't loose the edge; you still don't," she said cryptically, then walked away. Matt followed her into Mohinder's office, where the young technopath typed furiously into the computer. She shut the door and sighed. "I take it you're against Senator Armstrong's movements against the mutant community in New York."

Matt nodded. "I came to get Molly before they found out about her. If they got their hands on her, who knows what they could do?"

"Well, she's safe with Mohinder," Heidi said. She motioned out the window to the bullpen. "I'm taking over Nathan's work, as he's believed to be dead. Peter, too." That answered those questions. He watched the woman closely, and she again motioned for him to look out the window. He saw a number of heads pop up from their computer screens.

"They've been notified, Mrs. Petrelli," Viral said, spooking Matt.

One by one, the agents notified came into the office. Heidi introduced them as they came in. Ortega, Ridge, Frost, Tisdale, and Roark. While he'd heard of Frost and Tisdale, Matt never heard of Kelly Roark.

She smiled at Matt, giving her the look of a schoolgirl in heat. He tried to peek into her mind, and found a little song playing over and over again.

Heidi put a hand on Matt's shoulder, drawing his attention away from Kelly. "These are the only people left in the Agency I know we can trust. All of them were in my husbands personal files, and that has to mean something, doesn't it?"

Matt nodded, even though he was listening to _I'm a Little Teapot _in Kelly's head. Something smelled funny here, and it wasn't the political bull that the place usually stank of. He reached out and touched Ridge's mind. _Who is she?  
She's not one of us, _Ridge thought. _She's here to report to Armstrong. Mrs. Petrelli thought it would be good to pretend to play ball with her._

"We have plans in New York, and now, you're going to takeover the operations," Heidi said. "Nathan said a lot of good things about you, Parkman. Don't make me regret this."

The Agents dispersed, leaving only Heidi, Viral, and Matt. "You can't seriously think that she won't tell Armstrong about all this."

"Oh, I don't," the woman said, coldly. "I expect her to. That's why I've been feeding her faulty information. Every once in a while, she gets the truth, like you heading operations for me. However, as of yet, we have no plans of actions other than protests. They want us to do something stupid, so Armstrong can more here as well. I don't think so."

"I take it your using Molly to track Armstrong?" Matt asked.

Heidi nodded. "Among other things, yes. I did ask her to search for Nathan, but I really don't expect her to find time between everything we're having her do or her own free time." Matt thought he saw tears leaking out the corner of her eyes, and she turned away. "I'll thank you in advance for staying out of my head."

"Yes, ma'am," Matt said, and he meant it. As long as they didn't endanger Molly, he would honor her wishes. The moment Molly is put in danger, Heidi's mind becomes his new playground.

_**Elle Bishop**_

_**San Ribero**_

After the storm, Smokey flew them to the island, where Elle was now fighting with Vann over their allegiance. "We followed Michael, not you!" she spat at the one who called himself a Seraph. "He told us to join with Peter Petrelli! Besides, we know it was you who set up that attack that stole him away from us!"

"How dare you?" he asked, seething. "I set you free from the Company when no one else would, you ungrateful little…" He brought his hand up to hit her, but was interrupted by a telekinetic shove. Elle spun around and saw Peter.

"Didn't your mother every teach you not to hit a woman?" Peter asked. Elle smiled at him. he was growing in leaps and bounds, motivated by the loss of his brother. Alphonse had already accepted him to the little group on San Ribero.

Vann forced down his anger. "I'm sorry, Elle. My temper got the better of me." He pushed himself up, and stormed off. All three of them knew who Alphonse would side with in a fight, and Vann didn't want to take on the both of them.

Elle nodded to Peter, as was custom on the island. He was Seraph and she was just an Other, but she couldn't help the small tugs in her heart when he smiled at her like he did now. "I never would have thought that you would attack him in defense of me," she said.

"You remind of someone," Pete said, his eyes fading, "and she reminds me of Nathan."

Uh, the cheerleader again, little miss pom-poms. Elle could die happy if she never heard of Claire again in her life.

Pete came back with a start. "Where's Smokey and Kate? I haven't seen them around the last couple of days."

"I sent them to look for Wyrm and Will," Elle said. "If it's bothering you so much, why don't you go find Claire?" She thought it would cheer him up, but it only further depressed him.

"I'm not ready to be on my own, yet," he said, with down cast eyes.

He must think that it made her think less of him, but he didn't realize that nothing ever could. She pushed his chin up and looked him in the eyes. "I'll go with you, if you really want to." It was more than she ever really wanted to offer, but Claire was his niece, and he was the only family she had left. She should be with him.

"Alphonse wouldn't let me," Peter said. "I've already asked."

Peter sulked off, leaving Elle alone to her thoughts. Never before in her life had she wanted to do something for someone just because she liked them. Even with Michael, it was only because he brought her out of the Company, so long ago. She took a seat in the small room, waiting for Kate and Smokey to report back, and thinking about Peter and the future.

_**Will Stone**_

__

For a week now, Will wandered the island alone, looking for any sign of Wyrm. The place was deserted. He tried to use his powers, but they didn't seem to work here.

Before, Will went around the island; that's how he found out it was an island; and it took this long just to get around it. That morning, he turned inland. Now, it was noon, and found himself in a small clump of buildings. He pushed open the big iron doors of the largest building, and stepped inside.

It smelled of sour, rotting meat and the buzz of flies was thick in here. He gagged and put his hand over his nose and mouth, using his shirt as a barrier against the stench. Moving from one hallway to another, he found himself in a long hallway filled with jail cells.

At the far end of the hall was a drunk tank, and there were shadows on the wall; moving shadows. Will made his way down slowly, trying not to think about what would live so freely among the rotting smell and flies.

He was about to reach the door when it burst open and fiery haired man lunged at him. Will's first instinct was to throw his hands up and send a sound wave at him, but the man was on him before he could do anything.

The man stopped attacking when he saw what Will was. "How did you get passed them?"

Will looked back. There was nothing down there. "I didn't see anyone."

"They must have went hunting," he said, and for the first time, Will saw sanity in his eyes. The crazed man was wild with fear about something. He had a shag of crimson hair that circled his face with the addition of a thick, short beard. Over his right eye, he bore an eye-patch. "Come on, there will be time to talk later."

He grabbed Will by the arm and dragged him towards the front of the building. "At least tell me your name!" Will shouted, being forced through doors into what looked like an abandoned courthouse.

"They call me Emil Blonsky," he said, slamming the door behind him. As he did, Will heard growls on the other side. Something slammed into the door, and both of them jumped. "Little buggers are sneaky; quick and sneaky."

Will looked around the room at the rows of seats before a judges pedestal, or whatever they call them. His mind wandered. _Emil Blonsky. I've heard that name before, but where?_

"I'd ask how you got here, but I take it was forced on you by a large man with W's tattooed on his forearms." Will nodded. "Then there's little to talk about, other than how the hell do we get away from here. Oh," he threw in as an afterthought, "your name is?"

"Will Stone."

Emil stuck his hand out and Will shook it. "I suppose it's a pleasure to meet you."

There was another thump outside the door, but Emil didn't seem to mind. He was looking for a place to lie down.

"I got here two days after the storm," Emil said, lying down between two of the rows of chairs. "When did you get here?"

"The night of," Will said.

"Damn!" Emil said. "Do I feel sorry for you? I guess I have news for you, then, about what's going on outside this nightmare." His head popped up over the benches. "They turned New York into a military state. They're rounding up all the mutants, looking for the culprit."

Will's mind shot to Gavin and Teagan. Mackenzie was safe, that was the only good thing. "Anything else?"

"Nah," he said, lying back down. "That's the only bit of news I carry. Maybe someone else will bring more news, God forbid anyone else comes here."

Will picked out a spot between the rows of chairs and laid down. This was going to be Hell.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**New York**_

They moved closer to the Lincoln tunnel, hoping that the soldiers would leave or something so that they could get passed. It was hard enough getting out of the state, with out having to deal with this at the end of every city. Gavin looked at the lights, intently.

"Can you do anything?" Claire asked, knowing better.

Gavin shook his head. "It's too bright, and there's not enough darkness for me to cover each of those spotlights."

Claire felt her hope slipping away. Again, they were cut off from help. Then, she was yanked back into the alley. "What the hell?"

He didn't have to answer, as a car slid past them. Claire stuck her head out, watching as the car slowed at the entrance to the tunnel. She saw the driver stick his head out of his window, talking with a soldier. Then, the car left and the soldier said something over the radio.

"What do you think that's about?" Claire asked, but again, she didn't need an answer. At that moment, she heard the rotor of a helicopter approaching. Light cut through the failing night as they threw on their spotlight. A number of armed soldiers started moving towards trucks.

"Um, Claire?" Gavin said, a little fearfully. She turned, seeing Gavin's eyes opened wide. Moving her eyes, she spotted the gun to the back of his head, leading all the way up a fatigued arm and eventually to a soldier.

"Claire Bennet?" the soldier said a little confused. Then he smiled. "Ms. Bennet, I'm afraid you're going to have to come with us. If you don't, then I'm afraid I'm going to have to spread this young man's brains all over the ground."


	28. Purge

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**San Ribero**_

"I don't think I can do it!" he growled, the strain of the exercise nearly draining him. He sat on a chair in one of the back rooms of the temple. Alphonse stood nearby, holding a cane. The little kid had one hell of a swing. He slammed it again into Peter's back.

"You must focus, Peter! How can you do this in a fight if you can't do it now?" he pleaded with Peter. "Think of Claire."

Now that was a desperation move. As if it wasn't enough to give him the one ability he was afraid of, induced radioactivity, now he's going to taunt him. Peter struggled under the pressure. Twice now, Alphonse struck him hard enough to knock him out to keep him from exploding, and he still couldn't do what was wanted of him. "It's not one of my capabilities! You were wrong about me! I can't do it!"

"Peter, open you eyes," Alphonse said, much gentler.

_This is a trick. _Peter told himself, but he could help himself. He knew it was going to bad. The whole world around him had changed. Now he sat in his own apartment, fixated on what stood before him. Claire was bound and gagged and someone was holding a gun to her head. Who it was didn't matter; this was proved by the mask. "Why are you doing this?"

The masked man asked, in Alphonse's voice. "If you don't do what I've told you, I will kill her, Pete. If I put one bullet in her head, there is no coming back for her." Peter shook his head. "Plus, if that isn't enough to convince you, I have Heidi, Monty, and Simon back here, too."

"You sick, twisted…"

"One," Alphonse said, starting the last countdown. He'd done this kind of thing before. Pete knew he only had till the count of three, then poor Claire would die.

"It's can't be done," Pete said, tears flowing down his cheeks. Through his blurred vision, he saw he was glowing three, maybe four, times as much as before. Explosion was eminent.

"Two."

Peter slammed his eyes shut, focusing on that one little thing Alphonse told him about, and he felt it. It contracted like a muscle flexing. It was a feeling Peter knew well. It happened like when he used an ability. He felt free.

He opened his eyes, amazed to see he was no longer near exploding. He wasn't even glowing anymore. The room was back to the way it was. He feel to his knees, thanking God to be alive, for the world to still exist , and for everything to be in place. Peter couldn't stand, could only hold himself up on all fours. Alphonse lowered himself down and put an arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry it came to that, Pete, but Claire was never in any real danger. It was an illusion, one of my many gifts, but you don't have to worry about it ever again. Purging yourself is like a working a muscle, it gets easier every time."

"That doesn't make up for what you did," Pete said through his tears. "I hate you."

"Hate is a natural emotion," Alphonse said. "It will force you to do everything you can to the highest of your abilities. If you must hate me, then so be it." Alphonse left Peter to be by himself.

As soon as he was gone, Elle came in, thanks to Noel's phasing. She went to him and helped him to his feet. "How did it go?"

"Horrible," Pete said, put an arm around Elle's neck to steady himself. The world was swaying under his feet, and he was afraid that if Elle moved to far away he would just collapse. "I can do it though. I never want to go through that again."

Elle patted his chest. "You never will, Pete. Not ever again." She helped him out of the room. "But it needed to be done, you know that, right?" He nodded. Of course he knew that. If he couldn't get rid of dangerous powers like induced radioactivity, he could explode again, and this time, Nathan wouldn't be there to help him.

"I need to sleep," he said, already half-way to dream land.

"We're almost to your room," she said in comforting tones. "Just a few more steps."

_**Senator Fred Armstrong**_

_**Hart Center, New York**_

He sat behind the desk of former director, Nathan Petrelli, with his feet on top of it, smiling as he spoke into the speaker phone. "You know the drill: any confirmed mutant who doesn't cooperate, kill them." Armstrong pushed a button, cutting of the soldier.

Ah, the power of it all was so seducing, and he didn't even bother trying to distance himself from it. It was the greatest thrill to have so many lives ended at your command. There were up to fourteen confirmed mutant kills, and growing.

Armstrong stood, ready for his own days work. The Bennet girl has ties to the Petrelli brothers, and more than likely has information as to their whereabouts. He grabbed his 'special' bag from under the desk and made his way to interrogation room number four, whistling a tune from a Disney movie, which one he couldn't remember.

He opened the door slowly, letting her relish being in the presence of such a great and powerful man. She was pretty, but no where near what some of the men where saying about her. Armstrong smiled at her, pleasantly, and she spit at him. "Not very becoming of you," he said, opening his case. "You're going to do me a little favor."

"Screw you," Claire said.

Armstrong grinned. He loved to break the spirit of the young. "You're going to tell me everything you know about Peter Petrelli, starting with what powers he's capable of and where he is."

"Why is that?"

He lifted a small hook from the case, freshly polished since the last time it was used. "Because I'm going to put you through so much pain, you'll wish you could die."

_**Heidi Petrelli**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle**_

Viral sat behind the desk, his face lit up by the monitor of the computer. He was so good at what he did, Heidi thought it wouldn't hurt to have a look into Armstrong's personal files. "This reminds of my days before the Agency," he said without looking up. "If you want, I can drop a couple of viruses, and we can make this little flashback complete?"

"No, I just want to know what they're up to," Heidi said.

"That'll take a couple of….There, I'm in," Viral said. "He's got a number of files on various locations, people, and other such things. You want me to look for anything in particular?"

"Petrelli," she said. "I want to know everything he knows about us."

Viral typed a few things into the keyboard, and "Oh, hang on. I got a Claire Bennet. Her file is flagged as a top priority. Do you know her?"

Heidi's heart rate skyrocketed when he said that. "She's my step-daughter."

The once and future hacker went back to work. "It's all jumbled up, encrypted with a some kind of code."

"Can you crack it?"

Viral shook his head. "It's not a technical thing. It's something he did on his own. This is for his eyes only. However," he grinned, "it would only take a minute to make a siphon."

Heidi nodded, and Viral went to work. She looked at the clock. _6:13. _Damn, she should have had a cup of coffee before coming in to work. Too late now.

"Crap," he said after a minute, causing Heidi's heart rate to jump another five or so beats per minute. "They have her in custody. She's up for interrogation about Peter Petrelli this morning. Armstrong's going to handle it himself. Oh….Oh."

Heidi glared into the side of his head. The look of disgust on her face was enough to tell her something was up. "Tell me right now."

"You see, he's got things planned for her that are, well, against the Geneva Convention, not to mention, unconstitutional."

Heidi fled the room. There was only way to get her step-daughter out without drawing attention to herself. Hiro Nakamura. _Here's hoping he'll do it._

She forced her way into his and Ando's room. Hiro, as usual, sat awake, going through his notebook. He looked up when she came in the room. "Yes?"

_Ever so polite,_ she thought. "I need you're help, Hiro. This has to be quiet, though. No one can know about this, if you should agree to do it."

Hiro stood, reaching for his sword. "Tell me and we'll see."

"My step-daughter, Claire, is going to be tortured in New York unless you can get her out." Heidi stopped to take a breath and stop her tears from coming out. She spent too many days crying as it is. "I don't have anywhere else to go." She shut her eyes. "There's no one left that can save her in time. I'm sorry I have to ask you to do this, Mr. Nakamura."

She opened her eyes, ready to go into a longer speech, but Hiro was gone, and Ando was looking at her like she were crazy. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Heidi nodded, thinking about Ando. She needed help to do this, and Ando was, at some point, in charge of the Japan branch of the Agency. "How would you like a job?" she asked, smiling.


	29. Dark Days

_**Gabriel Gray**_

_**New York**_

Even as he searched for Claire, he was too aware of his surroundings. He knew that a new power was rising here in New York, headed by the sadistic anti-mutant Senator Fred Armstrong. He knew that they knew what he looked like and what he'd done.

Still, he walked past the soldiers with no fear. The powers Michael had given him to give to Claire were extreme to say the least, but he knew how to handle them. Gabriel sighed, entering the small area the hotel called an entertainment center. All around it, the ugly brown buildings of the hotel rose up, and he made his way to his room to wait for night and to begin his search anew.

There was a woman sitting on a beach chair near the desolate, empty pool, crying her eyes out. The old Gabriel would have walked right past without a second look. The new one, however, couldn't help but wonder what had caused her to cry.

He stopped at the door to his room and watched her. She was young, not much younger than he, maybe twenty-six at the max. Her hair was a lovely brownish blonde. She was slight, almost small enough to fit in a mouse hole.

Gabriel couldn't take it. He made his way over and put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped to her feet, spinning around to face what she must have thought was a robber. He threw his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"I'm fine," she very nearly spit at him. It made her ugly. "So just leave me alone, alright?"

She returned to her seat, ignoring Gabriel to the best of her ability. Her entire body quaked under the force of her sobs. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"No," she said, losing conviction. "Just go, please?"

Gabriel did what Michael had told him to do in cases like this. He activated a few of the myriad of powers given to him for Claire Bennet; power sensing and empathic reading. He found out the girl crying wasn't a mutant, and that she had recently lost everyone dear to her.

Gabriel reached out again, this time putting the pad of his thumb to the back of her neck. He didn't quite know what he was doing; it was one of Michael's powers taking hold of him. "What are you doing to me?" she asked, fear now quivering in her voice. "It's so cold, stop it. Stop it!"

She screamed, but didn't move, and no one came to see what was wrong. Gabriel felt that some force within himself migrate out through his thumb. Blood rushed away from his brain and he felt dizzy. The world swayed in his vision and it took all of his strength not to pass out.

Finally, after a minute or three, his hand just feel back to his side. He had enough presence of mind to look at the back of her neck and see a small mark there. It looked like a seed. She stood up again, as he feel to a hunch, waiting for the blood to make it's way back to his head. She backed away, staring at him like he was nuclear. "Who are you? What did you do?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said, in answer to both of the questions. He no longer knew he was; he had no sense of identity. Too many people had died in his old quest to be special, and now he did something to her, and he didn't know what.

She leaned over and helped him to his feet. "I'm Mackenzie, Mackenzie Wilkes."

"My name is Gabriel," he said.

"Like the angel?"

It was so innocent a question that he almost laughed. No, he wasn't an angel, not a saint, not anything important. He was just him. "Yeah," he said, smiling. "Like the angel."

_**Sylar**_

_**New York**_

He looked just like Gabriel Gray, only he pulled a baseball cap down over his face, hoping it would keep him from being spotted. Deep in the back of his mind, the ticking echoed. He knew only one thing: find Claire Bennet and kill her. He pushed his way through the crowd of people, going to the spot he knew her to be.

Sylar didn't know about Gabriel, nor did Gabriel know about Sylar. It was Atom's little gift to the cause. The two were now separate entities, fighting against each other. It should foil what ever little plans Michael had before dying.

Sylar grinned, looking up at the Agency New York HQ building at Kirby Plaza. Inside, Claire Bennet waited to be released, and Sylar was ready to be special.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Hart Center, New York**_

It was taking her longer to heal from the wounds the senator inflicted on her. She still had a ragged gash down her cheek from the last time she gave him an answer he didn't like. In his hands, Armstrong held a scalpel, ready to do more damage. "Where is he, Claire? I don't like to do this," he said, grinning and licking his upper teeth. "I will, but you have to know, it's for your own good."

_Never,_ Claire told herself. She would never give up Peter, even if she knew where he was. Looking at Armstrong, she could tell what he was thinking. He wanted her to scream. She spit in his eye.

"Again, with the spitting, Claire?" Armstrong asked. He shook his head, reaching once more into his case of torture implements, and she feared whatever he would bring out next. "I expect nothing else from you, of course," he said, rejecting what looked like a railroad spike. "You're not human. You're less than human. No human can do what you can do. It's an animal aspect. You're a lizard, Claire, and I intend to force you to be as human as you possibly can. Maybe when I pry the whereabouts of Peter Petrelli from you, I can teach you some manners afterward."

That's when she knew this was never going to end. Armstrong had no intention of letting her go; he was having too much fun.

He pulled out a pair of nail clippers, and she almost laughed. That was before he pinched of a small piece of skin on her arm. Blood poured into her open palm like a small river. She watched it, in shock. _Why won't it heal? _She asked herself this question again and again. "Tell me where Peter Petrelli is, and you can go back to living a normal life," he said.

"Just like that?" she asked, stringing the madman along. She knew he was lying; he just said he was going to teach her manners after this. There was no freedom here. Claire hopped she sounded desperate enough to make him forego another attack. She needed time to heal before he came at her again.

He nodded, his grin fading to a soft smile. "Just like that. I can do that for you, you know? I can be a nice guy, too, and I can give you such a life that you would never even remember Peter."

She saw a glint of metal behind Armstrong and hoped it was someone come to help her. Then it faded back into the gloom surrounding the small but powerful light they shined in her eyes. "I don't know where he is, though." Now she was almost pleading for her life.

He tsked her, shaking his head. Armstrong moved to her arm again, putting the nail clippers this time in the small amount of webbing between her fingers. "You know I don't believe that." He started to squeeze. Pain racked her body; it was officially too much for her to handle, on top of everything else. Just one more straw on the camel's back. He didn't pinch off the skin, but he held it there. "Tell me what he can do."

"I don't know!" she screamed, he pinched harder.

The door burst open and a soldier came in. "Sir, we have a problem."

Armstrong's face grew crimson. "It can wait!"  
"Sir, you're needed down on level three," the soldier said. "It's urgent."

The senator threw his nail clippers in the case and stormed out, the soldier right behind him, flicking the lights out on their way.

Darkness was all she knew for the next few minutes, but she knew some of what went on around her. There was an itching all over her body that tormented her, but she relished it. She was healing. There was time now.

A voice came at her from out of the darkness. "Claire Bennet?" It was a small voice, and it sounded like whoever it was had been crying. She hoped so; if someone could watch what was done to her and not feel something, they didn't deserve to live.

The lights came on, and there stood Hiro Nakamura, with a sword on his back; the glint of light. 'We have to get Gavin!"

"He and others are already gone," Hiro said, wiping his eyes. "That's the problem on level three. It was the reason I waited until now to help you." He reached out, grabbing the leather bands that held her hands. He didn't look her in the eyes.

Claire nodded. It was at least a way to keep suspicion down. "Who sent you? Was it Peter, or Nathan?"

Hiro shook his head. "Both are believed dead, Claire. They haven't been seen since the storm." He un-strapped her hands, and let her deal with her own leg restraints. "No, it was Heidi Petrelli who sent me. I was told to keep it quiet."

A light on the wall started flashing, spinning around and bathing the room in its red glow. Hiro sliced through her leg restraints., and she rushed to his side. "Come on, teleport us out of here! They're on to you!"

He shook his head. "No. Even if they checked the tape, they wouldn't know it was me. I did it all with time frozen. This is something else." Hiro opened the door, and they stepped into the hallway. Claire screamed.

There was a man frozen to the wall, the top of his head cut off and his face forever twisted in pain and terror. "Sylar…" she said.

Speak of the devil, Sylar came around the corner at that moment, stopping when he saw Claire and Hiro. "You…"

Hiro gripped Claire so tight she couldn't breath. Sylar lunged, knowing what was happening before she did. The world before her blinked out of existence, and she found herself across the country. She fell into Heidi's arms.

That night, Claire watched the news in the safety of her own little suite in the Hart Center. Fred Armstrong was killed in the attack, and they were blaming Sylar and Hiro for it, claiming they were working together.

A new guy was already in office, finishing off where Armstrong left off. His name was Eli McGrath.

_**Viral**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle Washington**_

He sat, as always, at the computer in Heidi's office. His boss this time, however, was Ando, the Japanese man he outfitted with a mechanical hand. Viral already gave him a nickname, and Ando loved it. _Cobra_.

Back into Armstrong's personal file, he found a number of things interesting. First off, Armstrong was working to eliminate the threat of the Evolutionarily Advance peoples. Second, Armstrong was in deep with a group known as Prometheus. When Hiro heard about this, his eyes just about popped out of his head. Then, he ran off to speak with Parkman and Hiro.

The biggest thing, though, was Blueberry Hill. It was called a prison for dangerous mutants, but the entire list of people in there were just ordinary mutants. There was a girl in there know who had the talent to make plants grow, how dangerous was that? Only good could come from a talent like that. Ando's word on it was to investigate further.

So, here he finds himself, entrenched in Blueberry Hill's record, and it was bleaker by the second. Why would a prison need such a large amount of medical equipment? The only thing Viral could think of was Nazi concentration camps. "Ando, I think you need to see this," Viral said, prining out a copy of the layout of the place.

"What is it?" Ando said, lifting the page as it printed out. He surveyed the map and his jaw dropped. "What is this? Oven? An entire building is marked Over?"


	30. Life in Stasis

_(A/N – I'm glad people liked the last chapter. I was worried I was over-stepping my Teen rating with the torture scene. I'm used to reading things like Stephen King, and I'm a little more than desensitized to things like that. I was afraid of offending someone with that. If anyone has any problem with the amount of description of the scene, I will be more than happy to revise it more. Yes, I said more. I would have gone into a lot more detail if I didn't want to keep my teen rating. With it, I'm restricted by the same rules and regulations that NBC faces.._

_I was also more than a little afraid that people would completely hate the idea of Gabriel and Sylar's split. _

_There is a small preview of the next few chapters at the end of this one, kind of a teaser if you will. I hope you enjoy it.)_

_**Mackenzie Wilkes**_

_**New York**_

The man she knew as Gabriel slept hard in the single bed room she could afford. In his sleep, he mumbled names that meant little to nothing to her. _Clare, Peter, Michael, _and others. Claire was the only she recognized, and Peter sounded familiar, but there were common names. What were the chances Gabriel was talking about he same people

Mackenzie sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, rinsing her face of. Her neck was still frozen and stiff from whatever Gabriel had done to it. Something was now in her blood, she knew that much.

She stood and looked at herself in the mirror. Maybe it wasn't too late to not be alone. Gabriel seemed to know what being alone felt like; he was constantly nervous, jittery, Always eager to avoid people. Maybe she could go with him.

Outside, a car backfired, and she instinctively threw her hands up in protection. Where they lived in Seattle, gunshots were not a common occurrence, but you always prepared for the worst.

She was amazed at what happened. Floating in the air before her was a small blue circle, alive with energy. She dropped her hands, and the circle disappeared. _What the hell? _Her mind instantly gave her an answer. _Gabriel did it._

Bursting from the bathroom, she shook Gabriel awake, near out of her mind. "What did you do to me?" she screamed in his face.

Bleary, Gabriel blinked. "What are you talking about?" He couldn't even tell where he was, let alone what he'd done.

Mackenzie threw her hands up again, bringing that little circle back into existence. "This, you half-dazed moron! What is this?"

He tapped it with one finger, careful. There was no sound, but he couldn't get past it. "It appears to be a force field," he said, and started to drift off again.

Mackenzie left him alone and went out to the pool, to resume her sitting and thinking. It was what she wanted, to have a talent like Will or Teagan, but she wanted it to keep them from fighting, and now both of them were gone. It was a little late. She looked over her shoulder, at her room. Gabriel would have to take her now. She could do something. She was special.

_**Will Stone**_

__

Emil pushed through the back of the civic building. Whatever was trying to get at them was gone, and Will prayed he'd never find out. Emil said they were like dogs turned inside out, constantly on the prowl for fresh meat.

The two of them made their way through the maze of village buildings, for that's what Emil called it. In all the time he was here, he spent as much time as possible exploring the buildings. He found the civic center the best place to sleep, because you could lock yourself in and keep an eye on things that want to get you. He never did explain why he had an eye patch.

"Bogey, ten o'clock," Emil said, pushing Will towards another building. Will looked up and saw a massive shadow in the clouds above them. It looked almost like a human, except for the wings that grew out of either side.

'What the hell is that?"

"Trust me, bro, you don't want to know," Emil said, shoving him inside the building. Will looked up once more before his new friend shut the door. It made his stomach wobble to see it. "Crap, not the chapel," Emil said, walking away.

Will turned around, looking upon another room filled with pews. Set up in twenty or so rows, a path lead straight up them to an altar, where two doors on either side split off in opposite directions. "What's wrong with the chapel?"

"Too open," the one eyed man said. "Anything could break those windows and come right in to get us. This place is un-defendable." He stalked off to the front of the door on the left of the altar. "See if you can find any food over there," he said, motioning towards the other door. Then he was gone.

The sudden quiet unnerved Will, but he made his way through the door Emil had pointed at. He found himself in a small hallway, branching off into several rooms. A small confessional booth sat, dusty and unused, between two doorways. Will, with a new-born curiosity, opened one of the doors. Inside was a tiny room with a bench where a priest would sit and wait to hear the sinners tell all. On the bench, however, was a notebook, with a W carved into front, like the ones tattooed on the guys who sent them there's arm.

Will picked it up and opened it. On the inside cover was the words 'Property of Billy Jamison'. He read through the first few pages, finding out that it was more of a diary or journal for Billy, who was eight and loved soccer and football. He mostly talked about his father, Edgar, and his brother, Ed. Ed, it seemed, had tattoos on his arm; W's like the man who pushed them in. "Ed, huh?" Will said. "Looks like I owe Ed a visit when I get out of here."

He tucked the journal under his arm so he could read it later and closed the confessional door. He made to push open one of the doors next to the big box for sinners, when he heard something inside it, move. Will stopped and stared at the confessional. He reached out for the door, when Emil emerged from the door Will entered. "What's up?" he asked.

"I found some interesting information," Will said, putting the movement out of his mind, telling himself it was just a rat. "The guy who put us here is named Ed Jamison."

One of Emil's eyebrows went up. He seemed to sense something was wrong. "What was that?" he asked. "You just changed a little."

"What do you mean?"

"Your emotions, they changed. I can tell. Don't ever lie to an empath, my friend," Emil said.

_So, Emil is an empath, _Will thought to himself. "Something in here just moved. I figured it was a rat."

The one-eyed man eyed the box, carefully. "Tell me, Will, my bright and shiny new friend. Have you seen any rats around here? Do you think the dogs would hunt men if there were rats to chase and eat? I don't think so. Watch that door." He put a finger to his lips, and then opened the priests door in the booth.

"What are you…?"

"Shh!" Emil hissed. He carefully slid the small partition that hid the confessor to the priest and peered into the other side. Something slammed into the small partition, and Emil shut backward. The whole booth shook.

The other door flew open and a small woman rushed out, crashing into Will. He quickly wrapped her up, holding her still as she tried to thrash her way out. "It's okay, we're not going to hurt you. Just calm down," Will said, going through variations of it, hammering the message in.

She relaxed in his arms, going limp. "Do what ever you're going to do to me and get it over with," she said, sounding rather defeated. Will surprised her by letting go. He got a good look at her as she stepped back, waiting for Will to lash out at her. She was a thin girl, almost skinny, and had bumblebee stings under her shirt. Despite that, she was older than Will, and possibly Emil. She had stringy black hair that fell over her face. When she pulled it back, Will saw that one of her eyes were black.

"We just want to talk," he said, still trying to calm her down.

"Speak for yourself," Emil said, coming out of the confessional booth. He looked shaken, unscrewed. "I owe you a scare, little girl, a very big one."

"Calm down, Emil," Will said, getting a puzzled look from the one-eyed man. "If we're going to get out of this, we need to be thinking clearly and working together. The more people we have, the better we can act."

"You sure talk like you know a lot," Emil said. "You don't even know who I am. Hell, you don't even know who you are!" His temper rose rapidly, his cheeks turning red, and his nostrils flared. "How do you think she's going to help us out of here? Can she open a portal like that freak Ed, or teleport us back to Kansas, or do you think we need to go see the Wizard? If you do, then you need to look around, because there is no yellow brick road around here, and no wizard, but there are plenty of flying monkeys!" Emil stormed off, leaving Will and the new girl wondering just what set him off.

She leaned down, lifting the fallen notebook and handed it back to him. "You're right, I think, if that makes it any better." She smiled, delicately. "My name is Emily, Emily North."

Will stuck his hand out to shake. "Will Stone. I'd say it's good to meet you, but, well…" He trailed off, and she laughed.

_**Mackenzie Wilkes**_

_**New York**_

Night was starting to fall, and Gabriel was waking up. She stared at him hard from her seat near the TV. He looked at the ceiling for a while, obviously thinking, and then he shot up. "You produced a force field? You didn't tell me you could do that!"

Mackenzie shook her head. "I wasn't able until you did whatever you did out by the pool. You need to tell me why, and now."

"I don't know," Gabriel said, honestly. "The truth is, I don't even know what I'm capable of, not since Michael."

"Well, until you do know, I'm going with you," she said, effectively trapping him.

He shrugged. "Fine, but at least we know you can keep yourself safe."

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle**_

He looked over the group of people with a sick feeling in his stomach. They were effectively soldiers now, in a war none of them ever saw coming. They all knew about Blueberry Hill, and all of them wanted to fight. Hiro was now in charge of whether they lived or died.

Matt Parkman stood with his pistol in his holster. He could read the mind of whatever enemy came before them and know what they were going to do before they did it. Kit Frost could something similar, but better yet, he could tell what dangers were head of them by touching the ground. Ashley Tisdale could fight as well as anyone they had before them, using weapons made of her own bones. Bartholomew Ridge could lift a tank and throw it, if only a few feet. Imagine what he could do to a two-hundred pound man. Hector Ortega could send out arcs of electricity. Sakura Miyamoto could blind the enemy with bright lights.

The other two people with them, however, seemed to be only a hindrance. Gavin Stone could manipulate darkness, that at least could be useful for an escape, but it would affect the others as well. And Claire Bennet? She could get hurt and heal, but even now, she knew she had limitations. She still had the indents of the nail clippers between her fingers.

Hiro sighed, deeply. He wished he had more help, and that Heidi would forbid Claire to go. He prepared to start teleporting people to the small concentration camp, outside Tahoe, Nevada, hoping no one dies that night.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle**_

_Claire?_

_Claire, are you there?_

The voice filled her head, like when Matt talks to her with his telepathy, but Matt was right there, and the voice didn't sound like him. Claire looked around, waiting to see someone step out from the shadows and grab her, tearing away from her friends, back to the chair where she was held and tortured by Armstrong.

_Claire, this is Alphonse, are you there?_

_Alphonse?_ She asked herself. The voice did seem familiar, but it didn't seem like the young boy who projected her conscious to the Statue of Liberty could also to do such long distance telepathy.

_Yes, the Statue of Liberty. I need to know where you are, Claire. Peter's here, and he's going to come see you._

"Peter?" she whispered.

Gavin looked over at her, confused. "What about Peter?" he asked.

_Yes, Peter Petrelli lives, and you need him with you, or he needs you. It doesn't matter. The point is, you need each other, and he's coming to get you._

_But I'm leaving here. I'm going to Blueberry Hill, in Nevada. And how is he going to get there?_

_Don't worry about that, Claire. He'll be there, and he'll bring help for you and Hiro. This is a fight we must win if we want to go on._

_(A/N continued –_

_By the end of the Siege arc, I plan on doing a little purging of my character load. In the next chapter, for example, someone will die_

_I also plan on revealing the truth behind Emil, bring back a couple of characters from the first season whose stories kind of fizzled out, and delve further into the mysteries of the world Ed 'W' Jamison has been stashing people. _

_With as much love as an writer can have for his readers, Traumedy101)_


	31. The First Shots

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Outside Lake Tahoe, Nevada**_

Gavin and Claire stepped from the teleporting arms of Hiro into the chaos of a battlefield. Peter was there; she could see him engaged with a number of soldiers just outside the massive walls of the camp. A woman was behind him, letting out arcs of electricity.

Hiro was gone, off into the fray. Gavin brought down some of the dark to obscure them from the enemy, and then he grabbed Claire and held on. She fought, eager to get to Peter. She needed to help him and damn Gavin for stopping her.

"Shh!" a woman's voice said, calling to Claire and Gavin. "They haven't seen you yet."

Claire turned her head, and saw the strangest thing she'd seen in a while; the dark haired head of a young woman sticking out of the wall. "Who are you?" Claire asked.

"Noel," she said reaching a hand out for them to take. "Now hurry up, the others are waiting for you two!" Gavin took her hand, finding it solid, and then the both of them were yanked into the concentration camp.

"The hell?" she heard Gavin shout as the cold of the wall rippled through them.

Claire looked up, seeing a number of people staring at her. Matt, Sakura, Noel; they turned to her now to lead them, because she couldn't get hurt. _Very well,_ she thought. _I wanted to be here. I fought to be here._

"What?" she asked. "Are we going to do this?"

Parkman nodded, and Claire could feel his mind touch hers as he expanded his awareness. That was one person who was ready. _Lead on, little one, _he thought.

It was strange, all of them being connected, especially with Sakura thinking in Japanese.

On they went through the low hallways, finding no one alive; only the empty remains of a number of people who looked like they got a hasty execution. One bullet in the back of the head. Claire held her head up, so she wouldn't have to look at their bodies.

"Claire, look!" Noel shouted, forgetting the mental connection. "It's Kate and Smokey!"

Indeed it was them, contained with in a cell that they couldn't open. If only one of them had thought of breaking in to get them out. Then, Noel slipped through the bars, easily enough. She wrapped her arms around Kate's neck.

From somewhere deep in the shadows, a gun went off, twice. Smokey and Kate feel to the ground, blood pouring from the back of their heads. A third bullet went through Noel and into the back wall. Noel was back through bars, double quick.

Sakura gathered what light there was and turned it into a spotlight, shining as far back as the cell went. There, seated on the cots, was the grinning face of Senator Fred Armstrong. He was shackled back there, grinning like a madman. "I see you, Claire-bear!" he said in a little sing-song-y voice that made her sick. "I'll never stop looking for you! I love you, you know! You're ever so much fun! I wish we could do it again!"

Armstrong pointed his gun at Claire and pulled the trigger again and again, only getting a dry click. He laughed madly. "Come on, this guys nuts," she said, leading the others off.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Outside Lake Tahoe, Nevada**_

He was all to aware of the battle going on around him. To his left, Hiro stood with his sword, keeping off the soldiers with his sword. To his right, the Agent Tisdale was using sharp bones jutting from her forearms. Behind him, he could hear the crackle of electric arcs being thrown by Elle. Little Elle, she shouldn't be here, either.

Peter forced his attention back to the matter at hand. The soldiers were getting closer, and they were cut off from the other agents. He decided to try out Ashe's power, bringing his own bones from his arms and cutting through those that stood in front of him.

The crowd around him started to thin, and thinking that Hiro, Ashe, and Elle could handle the soldiers, he took flight, loosing his own arcs of electricity from the air.

The sound wasn't that of a gun-shot; it was so much more. Peter looked down to see a rocket being blasted at him. He threw up a force field and let the rocket explode on it. Then, he punished the offender with a well placed arc to the forehead. All around him, the sounds of agony and pain filled his mind. It was beyond him to think he was killing people, so he tried his best to put it out of his mind.

Near the far end of the battlefield, Peter spotted Ortega and Ridge, more than holding their own. Ridge lifted up a truck of soldiers, shook them out, and used the truck as a weapon. It was a hell of a sight to see, with the added effect of Ortega's own personal fireworks. Where was the other Agent, though? Frost?

_**Kit Frost**_

_**Outside Lake Tahoe, Nevada**_

There was a great stench in the air, and it brought it all back; the insurgents in Iraq, the bombings, the senseless killings. It was all there in his mind. Frost knew every death on the field; it was his talent, what he once believed to be precognition, he couldn't shut if off. It was, as Ashe described it, clairsentience, the ability to see the past, present, and future of an object. Every time a soldier feel, he knew.

There was a deep sense of dread in the pit of his stomach, like those when his troop convoy was ambushed. He knew that someone was going to die, if he didn't act quickly. He brought up one of the soldiers guns, opening fire over the heads of those still standing and screamed. Everyone of them moved farther away.

In his mind, he tried to follow the string of events leading to the death of one his men, and couldn't. There were too many. He did the best he could, making his way over to the wall of the camp. It was stronger here.

One of the soldiers lunged at him, and instead of firing, he slammed the butt of the stolen weapon into his face, hearing the sound of bone snapping, like dry twigs. The soldier feel, but he would live. Frost moved on.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Outside Lake Tahoe, Nevada**_

"Are there no survivors?" she asked in desperation. They had just traveled through the bleak hallways of the concentration camp, finding a number of rooms were grisly experiments had happened and still held the gore that remained when one of the test subjects died.

Matt shook his head. "I can't feel anything alive, here. Nothing but that nut job back there."

Noel sighed. "Back to the fight then, I guess." As she said that, the wall next to the group shimmered, and Noel nodded. "I guess not. Alright, Claire. You first."

She reached for Claire, but Claire jerked away. "Don't touch me. I'm going back to help Peter."

Matt nodded to Gavin, and his arms came around Claire and locked in like a clamp. He lifted her up and ran through the shimmering wall. She found herself in what looked a common square from a medieval village. There he was, the little boy, Alphonse. She struggled, kicking and swinging what ever she could to try and get free. She knew there was no chance, but she wasn't giving up hope. Peter needed her there, to help. She had to go back. Gavin spun around, nearly losing his balance, and Claire got a good view of the inside of the camp. Sakura and Matt were coming through after her, but Noel was going back.

"What gives you the right?" Claire screamed, hoping Noel could hear her. "What gives you the right to fight and not me? Why?" She went limp, surrendering to those around her. Gavin let her go, and she collapsed. She would get no answer, and didn't expect one. So when Alphonse leaned in close, smelling of mint, she figured he was going to tell her what she needed to do otherwise.

"You have every right to fight," he said. "But, Peter is your uncle, and he has every right to deny you that. Noel, on the other hand, has lost both her father and her uncle. She has no one to look out for you. Her uncle was there, in that camp."

Claire looked up into what looked like eight year old eyes, but could see back through time so far that she knew a true and deep fear. Alphonse knew all the sorrow one could know. Two thousand years of it. How is it possible?

_**Ashe Tisdale**_

_**Outside Lake Tahoe, Nevada**_

She fought like the devil was in her, slaying anyone who came within stabbing reach. She was tired of fighting for this or for that, and not ever really knowing why. This time, she knew. She didn't have to go into the building to know what was in there. How could sane people do this to other human beings? They must not be human, and therefore, she was doing the world a favor.

She heard him scream out, not realizing what was going on. She spun, feeling as if she was suddenly immersed in mud or jelly or oil, something was slowing her down. Everything else moved with deadly speed, but she couldn't muster up the force to turn around.

Frost was in midair, leaping between her and the gunman. Something was wrong. Why was Frost in the air? Why was someone pointing a gun at her? What the hell was going on?

Then, the world snapped back, and she was at Frost's side as he lay bleeding on the ground. He couldn't breathe. The bulled had pierced his left breast, and she knew what was behind that. In a moment's time, he was gone.

Ashe was being moved, but she didn't know why. It wasn't over. Frost needed to be avenged. She turned her head; Ortega was pushing her towards the wall of the camp. Further back, Ridge was carrying Frost, and Elle and Peter were keeping their escape open with bolts of lightening.

She felt like crying, but she couldn't. Then, cold rippled through her body and she passed through the wall. That was it. She was a ghost. This was all a dream or she died and not Frost. No one should have died. This wasn't right. She wanted to shout, to scream, to turn around and tell Ortega that they needed to go back.

She did nothing, but let them led her through the portal and out of the battle.

_**Luca Popov**_

_**Warsaw, Poland**_

It was a slow day, made worse by the face that he could the work of twenty men alone. Nothing he did seemed to have purpose. There had to be a reason he could do what he did. All he could do today was go out into the country side and lift a tractor. Twenty copies of himself, that was all it took. He could do so much more. He was his own army, but why didn't the real army call on him?

Luca stood out behind his house, watching the sun coming up. He knew the shadows of this land well, even though it wasn't his homeland. No, he came from Moscow, and his family had been chased out, disgraced for being a democracy supporter back during the Cold War.

There was something wrong this morning. There was a man shaped shadow hanging partially out of an alleyway, not two blocks away. If it was a drunk, he was a long way off from the bars. The cops really should have handled this, already.

Instead of calling the cops, Luca went to go see if he could do anything. It was a slow day, or night rather, and he needed a bit of excitement. The man was well dressed, almost completely in a suit. The only thing he was missing was his coat. The rest of his clothing was heavily damaged with small burn marks made not by fire, but by something else. Luca thought it was nuclear.

Luca knelt down over the man. He was breathing. He was not an unattractive man for someone his age. He still had his own hair, thick and dark, even through his forehead was growing. It was a noble forehead, high and mighty. His face was filled with hard lines, but a few days scruff covered them. Luca was sure he had the square jaw of a hero.

He went fishing in the man's back pocket, pulling out his wallet. Luca flipped it open and nearly dropped it. _American? _They hardly ever come in this part of town. There was nothing to see here. Something told him to just walk away, that this man was in danger and to help would be to invite trouble on himself, but Luca didn't care. He spit himself into three people, all looking just like him, and the two copies lifted the fallen man up, while Luca the original read the man's ID card over and over again.

When they got back to his house, his copies carried him to the couch and laid him down. With one last look at the ID card of the American, Luca looked at the fallen man in the face, seeing the resemblance with the picture on the card. His copies rejoined him.

Luca asked, more to himself than to the fallen man, "What are you doing so far from him, Nathan Petrelli?"


	32. The Transformation

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**San Ribero**_

She was exhausted, physically and mentally, as she waited on the beach for Alphonse. It was weird to see such a large group of people being run by someone who looks like he started school for or five years ago, still waiting to hit puberty. It was even odder to see so many talented people in one place. Claire sat in the warm sand, trying to remember the last time she got to just relax, and wondered if she ever would again.

Alphonse was headed towards, coming from the village, with a smile. To Claire's disappointment, Peter wasn't with him. This was going to be a lesson; she didn't know what there was left for her to learn that she hadn't learned the hard way, but she knew, Alphonse had something to tell her.

She stood, dusting the sand off of her clothes, and smiled at the two-thousand year old boy. "Claire," he said. "It's good to finally meet you. Peter's told me so much."

"Really?" she said, unsure of what she was supposed to say.

He took her hand and lead her down the beach. "It's okay not to know, Claire. Ignorance is bliss, as the saying goes." Alphonse looked up at her, with odd almond shaped eyes. "You, however, no longer have the luxury."

"Why is this happening to me?" Claire asked, reaching the end of her rope. "I'm just a cheerleader. So, I can heal. A lot of other people could do so much better than me. I'm not really that special."

"I know, Claire," he said, with his ancient wisdom seeping into his prepubescent voice. "That is the reason. The gift you are to be given is because you're not special. You don't have any need to do anything you think is wrong, and you're usually right about that. It's not for you to fight, its for you to protect."

"What do you mean protect? Couldn't you do better? I mean, come on, you've lived for centuries."

Alphonse shook his head. "I have my own burden in this war. This is yours."

It was Claire's turn to shake her head. She threw Alphonse's hand out of her own, and stopped. "What war? All of you keep saying that there is a war coming, and I have yet to see a reason to fight! So tell me, you ancient booger, what war?"

Alphonse smiled at her. "Are you that blind, Claire? I had such high hopes for you."

"What the hell does that mean?" She wanted to hit him. This little brat had no right to push his values on her?

"No, I don't have a right, and I'm not trying to," he said.

She shoved him to the ground. "Stay out of my head, you little munchkin!"

"If you wish," Alphonse said, picking himself up. "Seriously, haven't you seen what is going on? New York, Blueberry Hill; the mutants of the world will not stand for it, neither will the other countries who have found a niche for every talented individual they've come across. In small, rural communities in third world countries, there are mutants with dangerous gifts utilizing them to create power for others. It goes far deeper than you or I have seen, Claire. Besides, normal people are threatened by our existence. They see this as evolution. It is, in a way, I suppose, but we have always been here, ready to come to the good of mankind. But man is a prideful creature. They see themselves as the top of the evolutionary chain. We are high on the chain, higher than others, but even we know that we could better."

"So, you're telling me we have to fight because they don't like us? Why don't we just leave, form our own country or something!"

"Do you think they will let us go without a fight?" Alphonse asked. "Just remember your American Civil War. People tried to leave, and the others forced them to stay. It will be the same way. Besides, where would go?"

Claire was livid. Everything she said, every argument she had, Alphonse was ready. "Somewhere we are wanted!" She screamed it, and for a moment or two, there was no sound but the echo.

Finally, Alphonse looked up. "Where is that?" he asked, and she had no answer. Their kind were forever hidden, and now that the world knows, they were being chased down, hunted, imprisoned, and in a few cases, tortured. There was no answer.

"What do I have to do?" she said, giving in.

Alphonse took her hand again, this time taking her back to the village. "You must receive the gift when it arrives, and then you must leave. You must find others like us, and get them to take up the mantle. You must live, Claire Bennet. You must take the All-Gift to the next person, whenever they show themselves to you."

_**Elle Bishop**_

_**San Ribero**_

Elle moved through the hallways of the apartment buildings, where the people of San Ribero lived, looking for Peter's place. She smiled, dressed in her best dress and carrying a picnic basket. It occurred to her that Peter would want to spend time with his niece, but then she shoved the though out of her mind. Peter was hers now, and Claire could just back off for a while. It was Elle's turn.

She knocked on the door, waiting for the answer. When the door opened and Peter saw Elle, his face dropped. He clearly didn't want to see her. "Elle, what is it?" he asked.

Elle swallowed back her tears. "I…I just wanted to bring you this, so you could take Claire for a picnic." She handed him the basket.

Peter opened the door wide, taking the basket and hugging Elle. "Thank you, Elle." As soon as he let go, she was gone.

She burst into her room, tears flowing freely now, and she wanted to scream. She tipped the dresser over, ripped the drawers out, and threw her clothes everywhere. _When is it my turn to be happy? When do I get what I want? Why do I still fight for people who see right through me?_

Sparks flew out of her hands as she tried to flip the cot, but it was nailed down. Instead, she got an idea. She could make Peter see her. She could fight, not for him, but against him. She wouldn't hurt him; she wasn't sure she could, but she could make him see her.

Then, the sparks died out. That was the old way of doing things. She needed to be persistent and understanding. It's not look Claire could ever love Peter the way she did. They were related after all. She looked up at the one picture that hung from her walls, a picture of Michael. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for showing me."

She stood, smoothed her dress, and walked out of her apartment. _Yes, _she thought. _There is another way. I could just keep at it until he realizes what he's missing out on. _She sighed, heading out into the small village. If there was any course of action to take, that was it.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**San Ribero**_

Peter joined Claire and Alphonse on the beach, hoping to talk to his niece alone. Alphonse looked up at Peter, with his usual smile, and nodded. "She knows, Peter, what she has to do."

_Ah man,_ he thought. "Don't you think it could've waited a little longer? Let her, you know, rest up a bit before you sprang that on her?"

The little boy shook his head. "It had to be done. As does this, Peter, even though you won't like it at first, it is the final step in your ability training." Peter felt Alphonse's mind touch his own. _Peter, this will sting a bit at first, and it will be unnerving, but with Claire her, you will be safe, okay? _

Peter nodded, knowing that he was about to get a new ability, and then it hit him. The world swelled in his vision and Claire was reduced to a swirl of lights and colors. It was the blood red that encircled her like a snake eating it's own tail.

He looked over at Alphonse, who was even worse off than Claire. Too many of the bands surrouneded him, like when someone overloads their fingers with rubber bands, too tightly strapped. "It's a form of power sensing you're going through," Alphonse said. "With practice, you will be able to shut it off on your own. What you are seeing is the aura of energy that abilities give off. Tell me what you see on Claire."

The lights that were Claire moved around, making the whole things swerve. Peter felt drunk, and falling over. It all blurred. He reached out to stop her, but his hand passed through the colors and he touched something that made Claire gasp. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, rather upset.

"I can't see you too well," Peter said, hoping she would understand. He doubted it; she couldn't know what was happening. "Just please stop moving."

Alphonse backed him up. "All he can make out is colored lights that are spreading out from your body. What he did is because he couldn't see what he was doing." To Peter, he added, "What do you see?"

Peter tried hard to take in as much as he could from the colors surrounding his niece. "The one thing that really sticks out is a band of light around her waist, like a blood-red belt."

"Very good, Pete," Alphonse said, clearly pleased. "It's the energy of her spontaneous regeneration. You will encounter other red strings, but I doubt many of them will be the exact same color. Now shut your eyes and feel for the talent. I don't want you to purge it, just turn it off."

Pete shut his eyes, feeling for that little muscle in his brain, the one that controlled his talents once he'd absorbed them. He knew which one he wanted, and flexed it. When he opened his eyes, Claire was staring at him like he was a freak, and the colors were gone. "Next time, Al, give me a little more warning."

_**Elle Bishop**_

_**San Ribero**_

She returned to her room with the box of her new outfit. This once was sure to please Pete, get his attention. She smiled. She had him now. She stuffed in the back of her closet, and left the building.

Elle walked tall in the community. Not many of the others knew Peter as well as she did; they knew only Vann or Elijah or Alphonse. A number of people asked about Pete, wondering who he was most like. Elle never told them a straight answer, relishing the attention the knowledge brought.

The truth was, she never really changed. Elle was what she was, and she liked it. Now, she wanted Peter to like it, too. The only problem was getting him to see her for what she was.

She made her way down to the beach and watched as Peter hugged Claire. She didn't really know why, but Elle suddenly hated the cheerleader. She sneered at the image of the two hugging and turned away.

Elle thought about the box in the back of her closet, knowing that it would be all the weapon she needed to win the war with Peter. Claire didn't stand a chance. _If Peter wants a cheerleader, _she thought, _then I'll just have to be one._

_(A/N – For those of you who are dislike so many characters, I have good news and bad news. Only a few characters will be leaving for good in this arc, less than I wanted anyway, and I have a few more coming in. However, to balance it out, a great deal of characters will be fading out to become not main characters, but background characters. I just can't do everything I want with them all, so I'm picking a few to headline in the war, especially since my weakness is in the massive fight scenes. I never know how much detail to go into, so I either go too far or not far enough. Either way, the number of characters will drastically drop in the next few chapters. _

_With Love, Traumedy101)_


	33. The Man in the Mirror

_**Ed 'W' Jamison**_

_**New York**_

He stretched, having already decided the next person to take to his little paradise away from Earth. It was beginning to feel a lot like it used to, back in the days when Dad made all the decisions, such as who needs to arrive, who needs to go, and where everything should be put. It was a strange, powerful feeling, having an entire universe at your fingertips. And it was all thanks to Dad's research of the All-Gift.

Such omniscience was bound to be a drain on a man, and Ed was beginning to feel it, inside and out. His hair had gone from black to white; and deeps bags hung from under his eyes. He wondered how Dad did it for so many years.

He reached out, sticking his fingers in the thin mesh of reality and tore a hole from New York to Seattle. Smiling and exhausted, he stepped through into Heidi Petrelli's apartment.

The place was soundless, nearly empty, but W knew better than to assume that. It was, after all, late in the day. He was sure his victim was home.

Slowly, he passed the small kitchen and went into the hallway. He pushed open the first door he came to, and shook his head. Wrong room. He moved on to the next.

This room was littered with toys, stuffed animals, and other such junk. Ed smiled. This was the place.

"Monty," he called out in a low, almost sing-song voice. There was no answer, but Ed could see the boy breathing on the bed. If Peter really was on to Vann, this would sidetrack him completely. It wasn't a good idea to have loved ones that could disappear without a trace in the middle of the night.

Ed tip-toed into the room, hoping not to wake anyone in the small apartment. From out of nowhere, he was struck. He hit the ground rolling, his left arm screaming at him. Standing above him was the missus, Heidi, and she held a baseball bat. She brought it up to bring it crashing down on top of him, but he kicked her in the stomach and sent her flying out the door.

As quickly as he could, he formed an image in his mind of his father's side universe and ripped a hole through to it. He could smell the ocean nearby, a coppery, thin smell. In the bed, Monty was sitting straight up, tears coming down his face, and he was calling for his mother. Ed snatched him up and threw him threw him through the portal.

The baseball bat collided with the right side of his face. The world slowed and his vision blurred from blood pouring into his eyes. He spun, punching Heidi in the face. He heard her nose crack and she went down, hard.

Ed wiped a hand along side his rapidly swelling head. Tomorrow, there was going to one hell of a bruise, but he'd live. He sealed the portal and hurried out to the portal to New York, which he left open in the kitchen.

Passing the first room, he didn't see the small foot sticking out until he tripped on it. There was Petrelli, the elder. Simon was on him in a fury, out for blood and getting his fair share of it, grabbing Ed by the hair and slamming his face into the hardwood floor. This time, it was his nose that crunched, and he howled with pain.

Ed flipped over, knocking off the small boy, and leapt to his feet. He grabbed up Simon and chucked him into the bedroom, watching as the boy bounced off his bed over to the other side. Then, he continued on his way to the bathroom.

His feet tangled up in something, and he fell again. This time when he looked, Heidi had both legs tied up in her arms, and she opened her mouth wide. He tried to pull his legs free, but she jammed her teeth into the soft meat behind his shins. Ed screamed.

One of his legs came free and kicked her in the face. This time, he straight for the portal, and what he saw chilled him to the bone. Sylar the Mutant Killer stood there in the way. The Killer reached out telekinetically and shoved Ed into the wall, who barely had time to open another portal to the other side. Instead of slamming into the wall, he was gone.

_**Heidi Petrelli**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

She looked up at the man coming at her. Pain racked her body, and she couldn't think clearly. He looked familiar, but Heidi couldn't place him. "Claire, is she here?" Heidi struggled to shake her head. It hurt so much. Then she was being lifted into the air by unseen hands. "Tell me where she is," he said, barely audible, but the threat came through quite clearly.

"I…I don't know," she said, spitting through the blood that poured down her nose.

The man let her drop, and her ankle twisted on the hardwood. "I don't believe you," he said, making his way past her. "Maybe Simon can get the truth out of his mother. He walked to the wall and held up his fingers. To her amazement, a line was cut through the drywall. He slammed his fists into the wall, ripping chunks of it down.

She felt the energy when he held out both of his hands. Simon came flying through the hole and into his hands. She saw his mouth move, but couldn't make out the words.

"Tell Mommy who I am, maybe then she can see clearly enough," the stranger said.

"It's Sylar," Simon said, and Heidi's mouth fell open. A thousand times Nathan had shown her his picture and told her his name, but she just couldn't put it together.

Sylar held up his hand again, this time drawing blood on Simon's arm. "No!" She screamed, lurching to her feet. "I don't know where Claire is! Now get out!"

Another man came through the portal, accompanied by a young woman. Heidi spun to see her newest problem. She looked at the man, then back at Sylar, and then back to the new guy. It was the same person. Sylar and the Sylar look-alike gaped at each other. "Gabriel," Sylar said, barely audible.

The woman threw up her hands and a blue force field opened between Sylar and Simon, and the boy fell, rolling on the floor, and then he ran to Heidi, hiding behind her. Gabriel lunged at Sylar, tackling him to the ground.

The new woman pushed Heidi and Simon out the door and into the hall. "You'll be safer out here."

In the distance, sirens went up. The alarm had gone off, although Heidi couldn't tell when. It sent a signal directly to Viral and the Agency, and he must have called the cops. What good they were going to do, Heidi didn't know, but she prayed that everything would turn out okay.

_**Gabriel Gray**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

Gabriel couldn't tell anyone why he was fighting himself. He only knew two things: that this was the killer who once lurked inside him, and the painting of him fighting himself. So, he fought, breaking Sylar's nose.

Sylar threw Gabriel into the wall with telekinesis and pinned him there. "You never were a fighter, Gabriel, that's why you needed me. You wanted to be more than a watchmaker. You wanted to be special. Look at you now. You don't even have power." Sylar always reveled in taunting his opponent, and now that he was free of Gabriel, he didn't worry so much about being caught.

"He doesn't need them!" Mackenzie screamed, throwing up a force field between the two Sylar's. It was larger than the rest of them, and orange sparks flickered near the edges. Sylar tried to reach out for Gabriel, but the force field blocked even telekinesis. On top of that, it started shining brighter than ever, and the orange started to take over.

Gabriel looked over at Mackenzie. Blood was gushing out of her nose, and even the whites of her eyes were turning red. "Stop it! I'll take care of this!" he yelled, but he already knew it was too late.

The apartment became thick with electric energy. The lights went on, shining bright than anyone thought possible before they exploded. The TV came on, flipping rapidly through channels, and then the screen shattered.

It was the force field that took most of the attention, however. The whole thing was orange, now, and pulsing. Mackenzie started wobbling on her feet. The force field exploded, sending Sylar flying out the window, and Gabriel felt a white hot head on his skin.

When it had passed, Gabriel found himself on the floor. He pushed himself up, every inch of his skin burning like he had one hell of a sunburn. He made his was over to Mackenzie, who had collapsed. He lifted her up into his arms, ready to carry her away, and then he saw her face. Her eyes had turned blood red, and her face was smeared with the gooey substance. She had blown a fuse in her brain or something, and it killed her.

Sirens grew closer, and Gabriel, for the first time, didn't care.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**San Ribero**_

She sat on the beach, watching the wave's crash below a full moon. It was the closest thing she'd had to rest since, well, before this whole damn thing happened; before Gavin, before the explosion, before Peter. It was now officially too much. The game needs to be called on account to rain. Something like that.

Gavin stood off by himself, looking at Claire looking out at the sea. She knew he was there, and no longer cared. She cried, letting come out in sheets. Each tear burned as it rolled down her cheeks. She didn't know how she was going to go on, or to protect some gift that Michael was going to give her. She was just a cheerleader; she'd said it many times before and probably will many times again, but it didn't make it any less true.

Gavin came over and put an arm around her. She wanted to fight, but she didn't have the energy. "I'll stick with you, through what ever may come. I'll be there," he said.

She wanted to believe him, but she didn't know. She didn't even know if that war really the moon up in the sky, or some malevolent goddess destroying the lives of men by bewitching them into trying to sail up to her, in _conquest _of her.

Claire put her head on Gavin's shoulder. Gavin stroked her hair, holding her close. She could almost hear his heart beating. When he spoke again, it echoed in his chest. "Do you know what darkness it?" She shook her head. "Darkness is absolute. It is the absence of light. If you took everything away in the universe, darkness would still be there. It is immovable. So is I. Absolute."

Somehow, that stopped the tears, and she looked him in the eye. Then, she smiled.

_**Gabriel Gray**_

_**Hart Center, Seattle, Washington**_

He sat in the small interrogation room, waiting for the questioning to come. _What did you do with Monty Petrelli? How did you get into Mrs. Petrelli's apartment without setting off the alarms? What did you do that woman in Mrs. Petrelli's apartment?_

The door opened, and Heidi walked in. It was the last thing Gabriel expected. He winced at the sight of her face; the crooked nose, the bruised eye, the cracked lip. But her eyes were the same piercing ones he'd encountered in New York at Petrelli Mansion. She was still pretty.

"Who are you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

"My name is Gabriel Gray." There was nothing else to say.

"Why did you save me and my son?"

Gabriel opened his mouth to answer, but there was none. There was no answer that he could give that this woman could understand. He shrugged instead.

"Oh don't give me that crap!" She said with an edge in her voice. "If it wasn't for me, they would have shot you on sight. You owe me an answer, no matter how much bull it may be, and you will give me one, or I'll let them come in here and shoot you now. I'll say you attacked me. Nobody would question it."

That left only the underlying silence and that held even more threats than her words ever could. So, Gabriel took a deep breath and told her everything about before the storm and after it; how he wanted to kill, how he was torn inside, how he joined the small group of travelers, how Michael gave him a gift for Claire, how he woke with a splitting headache, and how he made his way to Seattle. "When I say him standing there, I just felt such revulsion. I wanted to kill him. So, I tried. I didn't even know anybody else was there, although I am glad you got out okay."

Heidi sat there, and he waited to see whether she would believe him or not. Her head fell in her hands, and he watched as her body shook with sobs. He wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but he was shackled to the table.

Finally, she looked up, empty and bone-tired. "I believe you, Gabriel." Then, she stood and left him in there.


	34. Of All Things

_**Will Stone**_

__

He stared at the enigmatic Emil Blonsky, wondering just who the man really was. After the blow up when they found Emily, Will was leery of Emil. He knew in his heart that the name was a fake, that he'd heard it before, but he couldn't remember where.

Emily was off on her own, armed with one of Emil's numerous guns. That was a shocker. After the trio arrived back at the civic building, Emil brought out a duffel bag filled with guns and one sword. The sword he strapped to his back, and then passed out the guns to Will and Emily. There was just something off by the whole damn thing.

Will watched the man move, wondering just exactly what was going on in his furry head. Emil was oblivious of the attention paid to him; so much so that he was incredibly drawn into what was in his notebook.

Finally digging the courage to speak, Will asked, "What's that?"

Emil shook his head. "Just a little story I've been working on. A historical document, if you will. People will one day find this place, and they should know what happened here."

"You don't think we're getting out, do you?"

"Is it that obvious?" he said, and then he shrugged. "No, I know we're getting out, but things have changed to much for me to know when. There something amiss out there."

_What the…. What is this guy playing at? _Will racked his brain, deep in his brain. It hit him after an hour had passed of the two of them sitting in silence. "Who are you?"

"What do you mean? I told you who I am, Will, or did you forget?" Emil said, absently.

"Emil Blonsky isn't your real name. It's Russian, or something like that. You're American, through and through. The name comes from comic books. Emil Blonsky, also known as the Abomination, the Hulk's bad guy," Will said, hopefully pinning the man to the wall. "So, who are you?"

"A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet," Emil said, as if this answered anything.

"Don't give me that crap, Whoever you are!" Will said, getting to his feet. His temper was flaring up. If he could have used his abilities, he probably would have then to amplify his voice. "You act as if you know everything that's going to happen. I want to know why, Ed."

That got his attention. He looked up. "Nice deduction, Sherlock. What gave me away?" Emil, too, got to his feet, staring Will down. He yanked his sleeves back. "Was it the W's tattooed on my arm? I knew I should have gotten rid of them!" There was nothing there. "Or maybe it's how I rip wholes in the space and travel from one place to another like Hiro Nakamura or Charlie!" He stopped, clamping his hands over his mouth. The one eye Will could see went wide.

"Who's Charlie?" Will asked, knowing he'd already gone to far.

"If it'll get you off my back, my real name is Grant Woodruff, but that's all I can tell you." He left the drunk tank where the trio had been sleeping at night. "Drop it, okay?" Will heard him ask as he walked down the hall.

Will stuck his head out. "Where are you going?"

"Emily," he called back. "She's been gone a long time." He stepped out of the small jailing room and left Will alone,

Will went after him, following him through the small cluster of buildings to what looked like it was a school once. There was Emily in the ruins of a playground, with a small boy, about six or seven years old. Will came up behind Grant, or Emil, and listened to the sound of the wind.

"Damn it," Grant said. "Gabriel was too late."

Emily led the small boy over. "We can't just leave him out here by himself, so I offered to let him come with us. I hope that's okay."  
Grant squatted down. "It's okay, Monty. I know for a fact that your uncle is going to save you. It's only a matter of time. I promise." Then, he hugged the boy.

To Emily, Will whispered, "Who is this boy?"

"Monty Petrelli," she said.

The name struck a chord in Will. The Petrelli brothers, Nathan and Peter, were responsible for the whole damn mess that he found himself in now. If it wasn't for that damned Agency, then there never would have been a reason to fight, and he never would have ended up looking for a way to lash out. He didn't hold a grudge against the boy's uncle, Peter if he was correct. Peter had little choice in the matter, just like every other mutant in the country, probably the world.

From somewhere in the cluster of buildings, a howl went up. Grant stood, pulling out his sword. "It's time to get back inside." Will and Emily followed Grant back to the civic building, with Monty between them. In his heart, he couldn't wait to talk to Emily and tell her what he now knew about their friend Emil.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

Pete let go of Matt as soon as they arrived. Hiro's talent of teleportation was a handy one to have. He looked the ex-agent ex-cop in the eyes and nodded. "You know the plan, right? I'll go get Heidi and the boys, take them back to San Ribero. You get Molly and meet me here when I get back."

"Of course I remember, Pete," Matt said, turning to fade into the night. "Hell, we just came up with it a few minutes ago." Then he was gone.

Pete went to the address given to him by Claire. He found only cop cars and debris. He kept moving, hoping to pass unseen. As an after thought, he threw up his invisibility. _On to the Agency,_ Peter thought. _ That's where she most likely is, anyway. Claire said she was always working late. _

He shut his eyes and thought of the Agency lobby. When he opened them, he was there. Still keeping his invisibility up, he headed for the elevators. Tapping into the minds of those around him, he found out that Heidi was up on the twenty-sixth floor, interrogating a prisoner. Pete slipped into an elevator after an Agent and pressed the button when they weren't looking.

Leaning against the wall, he let his mind wander and reach upwards to where Heidi waited, unknowingly for him and her rescue. Instead, he found the mind of the Agent he shared the elevator with. _Why won't she just let us kill him? It's not like the freak doesn't deserve it. I don't believe that Mrs. Petrelli is defending that killer!_

The thoughts disturbed Peter and he let out a sigh of relief when the Agent got off on another floor. He let his invisibility drop, and tried to think of who Heidi would defend against execution. The only people he could think of were family members, and no one in the family has killed anyone, except Peter himself. There was nothing that proved this was going to be a fun little trip down memory lane. The only killer left that he knew of was Sylar. Peter's hatred of the man elevated. What did he have on Heidi that would make her defend him? There was Monty and Simon, and Peter, of course. Then, there was Nathan but he was…

No time for thoughts like that. The doors opened on his floor and he slunk inside, using Claire's friend's talent of shadow manipulation to hide himself. He slunk to the office that once held Mohinder Suresh. Inside, he could hear Heidi's voice, as well as another male. For once, he wished he could still phase.

Then he passed right through the wall into the shadows of the office. He'd forgotten all about Noel, the young girl who followed Elle into changing allegiance from Vann to Peter. He made a mental note to thank her when he got back.

The other man talking with Heidi was a face that he knew, but only vaguely. He was Dr. Suresh's assistant, Viral. Sitting, shackled to the desk in the room, was Sylar.

Peter stepped from the shadows, charging Elle's gift in his hands. Two arcs of electricity shot from them, striking the killer in the chest. "What the hell?" Heidi said, spinning around. "Peter, stop!"

But it did no good. Pete couldn't hear her. He threw himself on the man he once faced down at Kirby Plaza and proceeded to pound him into the ground. It wasn't until Viral and Heidi pulled him away. Then, he saw Heidi's face. Pete reached out, trying not to touch the swollen and bruised side of her face and wanting to heal it at the same time. "What happened?" he asked.

"Right now, it's not important," she said. "Right now, you're breaking orders and attacking a key witness to a kidnapping! Monty's kidnapping! He's the only guy we have, and he's cooperating, so just back off before I have you thrown in cuffs!"

"Monty? What happened, Heidi? If you don't tell me, I kill him, now," he said, and he meant it. Sliding from his left forearm was a thick pointed bone.

She pushed Pete against a wall, glaring into his eyes. It hurt to see her face so swollen and _meaty. _"You just do what I say, Peter. You put that away right now," she said, calmly. "Just trust me, if you can't trust him."

Slowly, the bone-blade slide back into his arm.

_**Matt Parkman**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

He set Molly down on the floor of Mohinder's apartment. "Go pack, sweetheart. We need to go, soon." As she went off to her room, Matt started pacing. He was self-concious of Mohinder's staring.

"What kind of trouble are you in, Parkman?" Mohinder asked.

"It's not just me, Suresh," Matt said. "It's all of us. We're in deep and there's no way out. If you'd seen half of what I have in the past forty-eight hours, you'd be anxious, too. Probably more so, considering who you are."

"What does that mean? Are you accusing me of something, Parkman?"

Matt shook his head. "No, I mean a foreign person. Blueberry hill, it was everything we feared, and nothing like we imagined. It was a concentration camp, Suresh, just like the Nazi's, only worse. It was headed by Senator Armstrong, who is still alive by the way, and the whole thing is going down the toilet." He glanced nervously at his watch, and then called out. "Molly, honey, just what you need, okay? We're going to be leaving soon, and I don't want you to get bogged down."

There should have been an answer, but there was none. Molly was a good kid, and she always let people know what she was doing if she was told to do something. Matt and Mohinder exchanged worried looks, and then it was a race to the bedroom.

Shivers went down Matt's back at the sight of the man standing there. Mohinder gasped. He was tall, with dark hair, and he held Molly in place with one arm around her neck, his hand over his mouth. Tattooed on his arms were great big W's. His nose was broken, and it looked like his left eye was going to be one hell of a shiner. "Molly's going to be going away for awhile," he said.

"Let her go!" Matt said, reaching for his gun.

Mohinder grabbed his arm. "Matt, don't. I know who this guy is. It went out over the Agency wire. Earlier tonight, he kidnapped Monty Petrelli."

Matt smiled at W. "Man, did Heidi do that to you? Well, I hate to tell you this, but you night's about to get a lot worse. Monty's uncle is town and he's looking for blood."

To his surprise, W smiled back, his grin wider than Matt's. "Of course he is. Kelly told me all about him, how much of a hero he wants to be. It'll get him off the boss's back for a while. But Matt? I had no idea you fit the bill, too." His eyes went to Suresh. "Just for the record, who are you?"

"Mohinder Suresh," he said. "Why does it matter?"

W laughed. "I just hit the jackpot!" Two fingers jumped out, sticking into the air. He ripped a whole in space between Matt and Mohinder and himself. Matt saw the open air suck him into the rippling portal and Mohinder being pulled with him, and then he found himself falling towards the open water.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

Peter sat in the chair Heidi pushed him into, waiting to see what Sylar had to say. There was nothing in his voice that gave any sign that this was the same man from Kirby Plaza, but that didn't excuse him from all the people who suffered because of his actions. If anything, it made justice all the more valuable. Now, Sylar felt remorse.

Pete found himself content to sit and wait for Sylar to hang himself on his words. In the meantime, he tried Mohinder's number over and over again. No answer. That in itself was ominous; Suresh always had his phone on him.

A light on the wall went off, bathing the room in red light. Pete was reminded of Claire's experience with Armstrong.

Heidi picked up the phone on her desk, and listened. "What the…? Now?"  
Viral's eyes went wide. "What is it?"

Heidi hung up the phone. "It's Sylar. He's here, and he's attacking in full force." She rubbed her eyes. "I was just informed that a bomb went off on the first floor."

Peter's eyes went to Sylar, wondering how it was possible for him to be in two places at once. Perhaps he killed someone else for their ability. He reached out for Sylar's collar, but Heidi grabbed his arm.

"Good idea, Pete," she said. "You can teleport us all out of here." She forced him to touch Sylar, and Viral grabbed Pete's arm. "Let's go."

Pete looked over his shoulder in time to see Sylar's face, the other Sylar, burst into the room. Then, they were on the way to San Ribero.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**San Ribero**_

His cell phone rang, and he answered in immediately. It was the phone that connected him to Ando, and that only meant it was time to deal with something in the notebook. "Ando? What is it? I hope to God it's not another flood."

"_No, Hiro. This is a simple one. All you have to do is go to Warsaw, Poland, and pick up a couple of people. It says that one of them will be a great moral boost in the coming days."  
_"Alright," Hiro said, "but I'm coming to get you soon." He hung up, shutting his eyes and opening them in Warsaw. He didn't know how he was going to find who it was he had to bring back, but he guessed he'd know it when he saw it.

He was right. Stepping into a pub with someone he didn't know was the flying man, Nathan Petrelli. Hiro was sure of it. He was bearded now, and he had a number of scars on his face and arms, but it was Nathan.

Hiro said, "Holy…."


	35. Prophets

_**Will Stone**_

__

He and Grant explored the schoolhouse where Emily found young Monty Petrelli. Grant, or Emil, said it was important, that he was expecting someone. He also said that time was growing short, and that he needed to show Will something. So there they were, walking the halls of an empty school, Grant dragging his knuckles across faded lockers. "I'm sure you've noticed how you can't use your talent here," he said, absently.

"Yeah," Will said, nervousness running through his veins. "Shouldn't Emily be here?"

"No," Grant said, firmly. "She has too much emotional baggage. She'd just get in the way. I never told you what my talent was, exactly, did I?" he asked.

Will shook his head. "You just said you were an empath."  
"That's only the half of it," Grant said, turning into one of the classrooms. Will followed, and nearly ran out of the place. It stank of rotted meat and sour milk. The place was trashed; the desks overturned, some shattered; papers and cobwebs littered the place. "First off, my real name is Grant Woodruff. What you about to see, you must remember. Promise me that."

"Sure," Will said, eager to get out of the room.

Grant lifted the eye-patch off his eye, and Will watched in horror as both his brown eyes turned white. Grant turned away, facing the center of the room. People appeared, sitting at phantom desks, the whole thing transparent. "This place has a severe amount of emotional tragedy, Will. What you are seeing is the torment of those who created this place."

Will looked around at the faces, hoping to recognize one of them as Ed 'W' Jamison. He didn't expect to see the soft, kindly face of Wyrm. "Wyrm?" he asked himself.

Then, all hell broke loose. The other people in the room started to throw things at Wyrm, taunting in him. Will watched the lips move, but there was no sound escaping them that he could hear. A rock hit Wyrm in the head and blood trickled out, making the young boy wobble.

Another person burst into the room, this one W. He opened up a whole in the floor of the room and one in the roof. Everyone inside the room fell through the open portal, falling through the one in the roof, picking up speed, going faster and faster; roof, floor, roof, floor, again and again.

Will turned away as W moved his hand to close the portal. He knew what would happen to those trapped in the loop, and he couldn't face it. He dry heaved into the corner.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he convulsed uncontrollably. "Will," Grant said. "You said Wyrm. You knew one of them?"

Will shook his head, then nodded, and then finally shrugged. He didn't really know anyone except for Mackenzie, and even then he doubted how much.

"It's okay," Grant said. 'I can see what you mean. I know you didn't watch the whole thing, but that's okay. I just needed you to see enough to tell Emily. The actual, well, demise is unimportant. It's all so we know what kind of enemy we're up against. There is more, but I think we'd better hurry. Someone's here."

Grant put an arm under Will's, helping him to his feet. "Why did you ability work, and not mine?"

"Fair question, I guess. You're ability is physical, mine is emotional. There are different laws here, Will. We're not in Kansas any more, I'll tell you that much now. The rest can wait until with Emily. She's as much involved in this as we are." Grant took Will down ever confusing corridors. He didn't know if he could find his way out if left to his own devices, and he thanked God for Grant.

"Grant, who are you?"

"Shh, we don't want to scare her off!" Grant said, lowering Will to the ground. As he sat there listening, he heard the cries of a small girl off some distant room. _Mohinder! Matt! _How many people were in here, trapped?

He opened his eyes, finding himself alone with a pistol at his feet. Grant had left him that, tired off carrying him to where ever it was the girl was. He'd left the gun in case of a dog attack or some other demented beast. Will struggled not to vomit. There may not have been sound when the kids in Grant's projection hit the ground, but Will added his own, and it sounded like watermelons hitting the floor, and he heard it over and over again in his mind.

_**Gabriel Gray**_

_**San Ribero**_

Gabriel stood in what he guessed was the grand chamber, waiting for whoever ruled this little tribe of mutants. Peter was gone, thank God. Gabriel didn't know if he could take another beating at the hands of the vengeful man. Heidi was gone, and that upset him. Heidi was the only one who would stick up for him, the only one who believed that he was different.

The doors opened, and he was surprised to see Elle walk in. She nodded to him, and then led him through to a room with a long table. She sat him down, and took her own seat nearby. "Welcome to San Ribero, Gabriel," she said. "Just so you know, Alphonse is nearby, and he's muting your talents."

"Am I ever going to be free?" he asked. "I know I've done horrible things to good people, but I deserve a chance to try and make it right, to earn a place in society again, don't I?"

Elle shook her head. "Not here. Hell, half the people on this island are ready to hang you now, and the other half are fighting because they haven't found a good tree yet. No, it's best you stay here for a while."

Gabriel lowered his head. Michael's gift had done him no good. He'd never found Claire Bennet, and he would never find solace. "Where's Heidi?"

"She's getting reacquainted with some of our town's folk," Elle said, putting a hand on Gabriel's. "You know, Hiro Nakamura, some ex-Agents, and Claire Bennet."

Gabriel's head shot up. "Claire is here?" Elle nodded. "I need to see her! Michael said…"  
"Not yet," Elle said. "First, the courts have to pass judgment on you. You have a number of well respected people fighting for you, and they won't execute you for your actions. We don't do that on San Ribero. There are worse punishments. Besides, Michaels' gift is what's kept you alive for so long. If not for that, Alphonse never would have offered you sanctuary here." She looked at her watch. "I have to go, Gabriel. I'll see you soon."  
She stood and left Gabriel alone. He sat in quiet contemplation, unaware of the eyes that were settling on him.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**San Ribero**_

She stared at the sullen man, with Heidi at her side. It was so strange to not hate Gabriel for what he's done to everyone, but for the first time, Claire didn't want to see him die. "Has he really changed?" she asked.

Heidi nodded. "He saved my life, and Simon's, from another man named Sylar. Don't ask me how it's possible, but it is. Knowing Peter, you have to believe that anything is possible. Look at you."

Claire opened her mouth to condemn Gabriel anyway, when the door opened behind her and Alphonse walked in. "He's no danger to anyone, Claire, not in my house, he isn't." He was carrying a case a lot like that of Senator Armstrong's, and Claire felt fear shoot down her spine.

"What is that for?" She pointed to the case. Memories of nail clippers flooded her mind, and that point when she would no longer heal. The human body has it's limitations, even one like Claire's. She never wanted to hit that point again.

Alphonse smiled. "It's mostly for Heidi," he said, setting the case down and pulling out a hypodermic needle. "You see, we have ways of healing almost all wounds on San Ribero, and we can't let someone who pulls as much weight as Heidi walk around looking like tenderized beef. However, I do need you blood."

Claire and Heidi threw him confused looks, and his smile widened.

"You mean you don't already know?" They shook their heads, and Alphonse laughed. "I figured with your curiosity, you would have tried to see what else you blood could heal. I knew someone like you a long time ago, Claire, and we did all sorts of test together. You can't cure death in another person, but you can bring someone back from the brink. Heidi's bruised and swollen face is nothing compared to three sword wounds, or a crucifixion."

Claire, hesitantly, offered her arm to Alphonse. She didn't like needles, and she turned her head and clamped her eyes shut. She repeated, _for Heidi, for Heidi, _over and over again in her mind. Then, her arm turned numb. When she looked, the only thing that happened was that Alphonse had touched her. "What did you do? I can't feel my arm!" Her fear was rising.

"Calm down, just another gift of mine. It'll go away when I let go," he said, slipping the needle in her arm with such grandfatherly gentleness, she hardly noticed the slight pressure on her numb limb. It was over before it began, in her mind. Alphonse turned to Heidi.

"I wouldn't want Claire to go through that in vain," she said, offering her own arm. "Just, don't do the numb thing. I like to know what's going on to my body."

Alphonse nodded and stuck the needle in so fast; Claire blinked and tried to figure out when the actual insertion started. Before she could figure it out, he was depressing the plunger, and her blood flowed into Heidi's veins.

After he removed the needle, Claire watched Heidi's face anxiously, waiting to see what would happen. It started almost instantly, her face returning to normal size and color. Heidi reached up and touched it, feeling how smooth it now was, then going to her nose, which had regain its original shape. She smiled, looking at Claire. "Now, we're blood sisters!"

Claire shuddered. "Let's not go that far, but we are family." She hugged Heidi, laughing.

Gavin entered, with a worried frown on his face. "Claire, its Peter. He's called for us to join him in his apartment."

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**San Ribero**_

Before him stood six paintings. Peter had never painted so many so fast before, and his arm screamed at him to stop. But he needed help figuring them out. He would have gone to Nathan, but Nathan was gone. He had Claire and Heidi, that was it. They would have to do.

Claire opened the door, bursting into his apartment, Heidi right behind him, a little more respectful.

"Hey, it's Will!" a man shouted out. Peter looked over Claire to see her friend, Gavin standing in the doorway. He was looking at the paintings. Thinking about if for a second, he figured it couldn't hurt to have another perspective especially from a boy who was getting awful close to his niece.

"Come on in, Gavin," he said. "I need help figuring these out, and I could use all the eyes I can get, but you can't tell anyone about them till I say so. Not even Alphonse." Gavin nodded, following Heidi into the room.

The first painting was the easiest to figure out. It showed Monty being attacked by a dog. There others in the painting, and one of them was Will, who Gavin pointed out. "This girl here, that's Molly Walker," Heidi said.

"That doesn't help much," Peter said, frowning. Maybe he should have gone to Alphonse first. This one he definitely would have to in order to figure out where it was.

"Here!" Claire said, getting excited. She put her finger on a dark spot. "What is that?"

"A shadow?" Heidi said.

"It looks like a pterodactyl," Gavin said, quietly.

Claire laughed. "Don't be stupid."

"No," Peter said. "Anything you see or think, I want to know. This going to happen, and we need to know everything we can." Peter tilted his head, and then added, "It does look a pterodactyl."

Heidi said, "Yeah, a little bit."

"All of you are wrong," Claire said. "It looks like a man with wings." The moment she said it, she wished it was a ptrerodactyl. A flying man was too much of a reminder of Nathan.

Peter shook his head. "Let's move on.

"Yes, lets," another voice said. All four of them turned around to see who the newcomer was, but only three of them knew who he was. Claire lunged at Nathan Petrelli, throwing her arms around him. Heidi was right behind her, and Peter behind her.

Nathan lifted up Heidi, and looked to Peter. "We'll be back in awhile. We need to talk." He dipped low, and then flew out the window.

Peter and Claire looked after them. Gavin shrugged behind them. "Hey," he asked, drawing Peter and Claire's attention. "Who's the old guy?"

_(A/N – There's only two more chapter lefts in the 'Siege' story arc, and one more major death planned. Good luck to all your favorite characters!_

_Thank you all for you reviews, and please continue to enjoy!_

_With love, Traumedy101)_


	36. Hope Flickers

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**San Ribero**_

Peter and Nathan stood side by side in Alphonse's Grand Chamber. He never thought he'd be with his brother again, but now there was no time for celebration. They had to do this for Monty and the others.

Before them stood an open portal to not just another world, but another universe, with creatures the likes of which they had never seen. Nathan had two pistols tucked into his jacket, held in place by a pair of holsters. All Peter had was Hiro's sword. He trusted it, though; it felt good in his hand, even after he killed Legion with it.

Pete sighed, and made to step through the wound between the universes, but Nathan grabbed his hand and held him there. "Together, Pete," he said. "We do this together."

"Alright, Nathan," Peter said, feeling the waves of emotion coming off his brother. It was enough in itself to make someone explode.

"When all this is said and done," Nathan said, "you and I have something to finish."

Peter looked at him confused. "What's that?"

"I'm going to prove to you that I'm the faster flyer." Nathan grinned, dragging his brother through the portal.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**San Ribero**_

"So, these are the rest of the paintings Pete did?" Gavin asked.

Claire nodded, as if it weren't obvious enough. "Yeah, and I'd like to know what we're going to tell him about them before he gets back. Like homework."

"I never liked homework," Gavin said, but looking at the paintings anyway. They moved quickly through the first two; Monty in the other world, under attack, and Nathan flying with Heidi over San Ribero.

The third, however, was slightly bizarre. Hiro holding a small baby wrapped in pink cloth. At least, Claire thought it was Hiro. He didn't have his sword, so could be just about anyone. In all the paintings, he was recognizable by his sword.

The fourth was one that she couldn't even begin to guess at; one man talking with another. The first man was tall, blonde, and pretty. The other guy was far from pretty. He was an average sized man with crimson hair and eagle eyes.

The fifth was a fight between two men that looked a lot like Sylar, or Gabriel as he was now going by. In the background, she made out a number of shapes that looked like people hidden in the shadows. That in itself seemed off to Gavin. "It's noon, how are there shadows?"

"How do you know its noon?" Claire asked.

"The sun is at the top of the painting," Gavin said. "If it was any other time, it would be just off to either direction."

"Maybe its north to south?" Claire offered. Gavin shook his head, but didn't offer any other reasoning.

He studied the painting for a minute or two more, than leaned back, blinking his eyes. "It seems we'll find out ourselves what time it is when this happens."

Claire shot a look of disbelief at him. "Why do you say that?"

Gavin shrugged. "If it's noon, like I say it is, then I'll have to be here. How else are they going to hide in so much shadow? Plus, take a look at the buildings. That is clearly San Ribero. I mean, look around Claire! You should be able to recognize the building your in!"

Claire gave the painting of the fight another look, and yes, it was happening in front of the building they were now in. She also something that chilled her to the bone. A shape in the background, prone, in a pool of red, with blonde hair and in a cheerleader's outfit. She shuddered at the memory of the original painting of her death's.

Gavin saw it, and put an arm around her. "Don't let it get to you. You're not a cheerleader anymore."

"But that's how I was identified in all the paintings, Gavin. I can I not let it get to me! My death has been predicted again, and this time, Peter won't be here to stop it." She let the room in tears, not bothering to look at the rest of the paintings.

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**Bowlegs, OK**_

The small trailer looked empty, but Hiro knew better. He was here only about a week ago, saving a young baby's life as she came into the world. He was invited back to see her as soon as he could. Here he was.

He knocked on the door of the trailer, and young Bethany Rhodes answered. She let Hiro into the nursery, rather the living room that had been made up as a nursery.

Looking down into the crib, Hiro sighed. Bethany was only sixteen, and her boyfriend was off in Iraq, fighting. There was little chance for this girl to survive on her own.

The baby smiled up at Hiro. "Would you like to hold her?" Bethany asked.

"No, I just wanted to see how she was doing," Hiro said, hands up and backing away.

"Come on, Hiro!" Bethany urged. "She deserves a chance to be held by the man who saved her life." She lifted the baby girl out of the crib and forced her on Hiro. "See, nothing to it, just keep her head supported. That's it."

Hiro, awkwardly, looked down into the baby's closed eyes. She didn't cry; that was something. "What's her name?"

"Lacuna," Bethany said. "I would have named her after you, were she a boy, and I didn't like the sound of Hira, or other female ways of saying your name, nor did I know any girl's names connected to you, so I named her Lacuna." She snapped her mouth shut, thinking she was babbling. "Will she be special, like you?" she asked timidly.

Hiro shrugged. "We are all special, but whether she is like me or not, I can't say." Little Lacuna opened her eyes and looked up at Hiro. He feel in love instantly. She was just so tiny and small and cute and cuddly.

She smiled at him, or so he thought. A moment later, an awful stench filled the small trailer. Bethany, blushing, took Lacuna and told Hiro to wait outside while she changed Lacuna's diaper. Hiro happily obliged.

Waiting for Bethany to let her back in, Hiro's phone rang. It was Ando. "What is it?" Hiro asked, worried about what he would have to do now, leaving Bethany alone without knowing why.

"_It's the notebook, Hiro," _Ando said, worried himself. "_It's empty. When I told you about the guy in Warsaw, there was a lot more to do. Now, it's just empty. Did we save the world?"_

Hiro smiled big. "I guess so," he said, and then he hung up. Lacuna would live in peace now, thanks what he did. He turned and saw Bethany holding Lacuna. Once again, she pushed Lacuna into Hiro's arms. This time, he welcomed the baby girl.

_**Sylar**_

_**Seattle, Washington**_

Sylar wiped his mouth, looking over the body of another mutant. This one tasted extraordinary! He stood, wondering where he'd seen the man before. Then it hit him. That time in the woman's apartment, he was there first. The tattoo's of W's on his forearms gave him away.

He grinned, sticking one hand out and ripping a hole to the place where Claire Bennet was; San Ribero.

_(A/N - it may be a day or two before the next update comes. It's an arc finale, and I want it to be huge, with at least two deaths coming. If I could tell you who was going to die, I would, but I want the anticipation to build. As it is, it's killing me to keep quiet. So, I just thought I'd let you know about the delay and apologize in advance about it_

_With Love, Traumedy101)_


	37. The White Dragon

_**Gabriel Gray**_

_**San Ribero**_

He sat alone in the small stone room that he was placed in after speaking with Elle. He wasn't entirely sure why they put him so far away from other people. The only thing he could think of was that they didn't trust him, which was totally understandable. After all, he did spend a good portion of the past few years hunting down others with gifts and killing them. But he felt there was something else, something to do with Michael's gift.

Gabriel laid down on the cot, with an arm over his eyes. If only he knew what was going on outside these walls, he might feel a bit more at ease. Heidi could only protect him for so long, and then the others would probably lynch him.

He felt the slight gust of wind before he heard the footfalls. He moved his arm and stared into the mirror image of himself. "Gabriel, we meet again for the last time," Sylar said, a thin evil grin spreading across his face.

Before he could move to defend himself, he felt the telekinetic hand wrap around his throat and lift him up. He couldn't talk, couldn't think; the only thing he had was the blind rage at seeing himself separated. Gabriel couldn't begin to understand the reasons why he hated himself so much, but it didn't change the fact that he did.

Sylar nodded. "Before I kill you, I'm going to show you what I plan on doing to your little haven of mutants. I will fest on the ones with powers I don't have, and just dispose of the rest. It wouldn't be hard, you know. And they all blame Peter Petrelli for bringing you here."

The wall behind Gabriel opened up into the courtyard of the temple, and he was shoved out. He heard the alarms sound. Gabriel hit the ground rolling, looking up to see the portal Peter had gone through close. Sylar turned his attention to the gathering mutants around him. Gabriel looked up, watching a woman in a cheerleader's uniform running at Sylar before being grabbed and slammed repeatedly into the solid stone walls of the temple. Blonde hair mixed with red blood, and then the cheerleader was tossed lifelessly over to Gabriel.

Sylar smiled. "There will always be others. Now," he said, snatching up another mutant. "Tell me where I can find Claire Bennet."

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**San Ribero**_

She was standing outside of Peter's apartment, crying on Gavin's shoulder when the alarms went off. Fear racked her body; the noise of the siren was eerily similar to the one that went off during her torture. Flashbacks of Armstrong coming at her with nail clippers flooded her mind. Then, Gavin was dragging her away from the apartment door, seconds before it splintered.

The empty sing-song voice filled the air. "Claire?" It was like liquid ice sticking in her belly. She couldn't move for fear that if she did, she would shatter.

Daylight quickly swirled away, and she thought she was passing out. Then she saw Gavin pulling the shadows around them, cloaking them in darkness. With his arms around her shoulders, he led Claire through what seemed a maze of corridors.

"I'll find you, Claire," the voice called again, almost insane with merriment. "It should have happened so long ago, in Texas, but you slipped out of my fingers then, and again in New York. Not this time, Claire. You won't get away again."

A hand shot out and grabbed her around the wrist, and Claire screamed. She heard Noel's voice calling them out of the building, and she knew she was passing through walls from the waves of cold that shivered through her body.

The darkness failed, and Claire opened her eyes, finding herself in the courtyard of the temple. Bodies littered the darkening ground, and she struggled to keep down her lunch. From where she stood, she could see a number of people she recognized, although whether they were dead or not, she couldn't tell. There was Heidi, over there was Gabriel. A cheerleader; a couple of agents, one female, one male. The whole thing was a nightmare, and she repeated it over and over in her head like a mantra. _It's just a nightmare, you'll wake up, it's just a nightmare, you'll wake up, it's just a nightmare, you'll wake up any minute now._

Then, Sylar was lowering himself down to the ground below, dark fury across his face above a sickly grin. "It's time to die, Claire."

From her left side, she saw only a blur as Gavin lunged at the killer, but he was tossed away like a rag doll. The last thought she registered before Sylar lifted her up was that this wasn't a nightmare. It was the end of the world.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

__

There were a number of people outside the school yard, fighting off the bizarre creatures that looked like inside out dogs. One, a one-eyed man with a mane of crimson hair was actually using a sword. Another, Peter recognized as Will Stone, fired off a shotgun, blowing away the hungry canines.

"Daddy!" Monty called, running to Nathan along with a little girl, maybe a little older. Nathan lifted both of them up, and tried to take off into the air. His eyes went wild when he didn't go anywhere.

"I can't go anywhere, Pete," Nathan said, fearful. "We can't fly."

A young woman with a couple of black eyes came up behind them with a frown and a pistol. "It's probably better you stay on the ground with the enemy you know." She pointed up, and Pete looked to see several flying shapes in the sky.

Striking out at a lunging dog, Pete asked, "What is this place?"

The one-eyed man ran past, swinging his sword better than even Hiro could. "If we knew, it still wouldn't be the time or place to discuss it," he yelled out as he flew by. "Get the led out, we don't have much time before the portal closes!"

Nathan spun and took off after the strange man. "What do you mean?"  
The one-eyed man stopped and turned around to face Nathan. "Sylar," he said, and then continued his rush to the portal. He was nearly there when is shrunk out of existence. Nathan cursed.

Will threw the unloaded shotgun at one of the dogs, and from the sound of it, broke its jaw. Then, all of them were running for the relative safety of the schoolhouse.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**San Ribero**_

She was overcome with rage, and she lunged at the killer, slamming her shoulder into his gut. She heard him grunt with surprise and pain, and took whatever pleasure there was to be had in it. Then, she turned her nails into his face, drawing blood. Sylar screamed, almost girlishly, when she threw all caution to the wind and jammed her fingernails into his groin. She tugged as hard as she could, letting her nails drag through the sensitive flesh, and followed it up with an elbow to the face.

Claire threw herself over the prone body of Sylar in hopes of continuing her assault, but she was lifted up by invisible hands and thrown high into the air. She came down on the cheerleader's body. Looking down, she saw the empty open eyes of Elle. She screamed and pushed herself up, only to be shoved farther back by Sylar's stolen talents.

"This is going to feel so good," he said, licking his lips. "I bet you taste so good." He licked his lips, but instead of intimidating her, she smiled. A growing stain of blood was growing around the crotch of his pants. He pinned her against the wall, and she heard her head crack against the stone. Stars filled her vision, but immediately started fading. She was healing at a rate that was incredible, even for her.

As Sylar grew closer, he ran and she stuck out both of her feet, letting him ram himself into the slight heel that her shoes bore. All the air went out of his body, and she was dropped to the ground. Claire was on her feet in no time and ran for the safety of the stone towers that grew up around the temple.

_**Will Stone**_

__

Will stood in the small circle that was made up of the adults in the alternate world; Grant, Peter, Nathan, and Emily, as well as himself. There was nothing to be said; there was no way out of the building without trying to get threw the ever-growing pack of inside out dogs, and that was death. As it was, Will didn't like the look in Grant's eye. It bothered him that Grant's power worked and his own didn't.

Finally, he looked up at Peter, brandishing that sword of his. "You have to know exactly what is going on here, Pete. Most powers don't work here, at least the physical ones don't. You and me, were emotion based. We can fight our way out of here, but you have to be ready to face whatever loses may come." Grant's eyes shot to Nathan.

"What are you suggesting?" Will asked, cutting off Peter.

"I'm going to go out there and distract those hellhounds until the portal opens up. Then, I want Pete here to lead everyone to it. I'll keep the dogs off for as long as I can."

Pete shook his head. "That's suicide. I won't let you do it unless there's no other choice."

Grant smiled, laughing a bit. "Too bad," and then he was out the window, his sword flashing into the bodies of the strange canines. From his spot by the window, Pete pulled up his memories of Elle and electrocuted as many of the dogs as he could.

Will turned to look back at Nathan, who went to the children's side, just in time to see two of the hellhounds burst through a window. Molly ran, shrieking, while Nathan covered Monty from the rain of glass. Pete spun, releasing an arc of blue lightning, frying one of the mutts on the spot.

The other lunged for Nathan. The flying man responded by putting his arm out for save his neck. The teeth of the dog buried themselves deep in his forearm. Using his other arm, Nathan punched again and again into the side of the canine's head. Will rushed to help, wondering if they were ever going to escape.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**San Ribero**_

Hands burst from the tower walls and yanked Claire through to the other side. Cold washed over her, and she breathed easy as she was drawn into the arms of Noel Gillespie. Behind her stood two agents she didn't know; a massive black man and a small, wiry Latino. The two took a defensive stance around the huddled people inside.

Claire was the first to hear the rumbling, but there was not time to warn anyone before the wall collapsed. Sylar was on them.

The Latino agent released arc after arc of electricity, while the black agent lifted a massive stone to hurl at the enraged killer. With a telekinetic push, Sylar shoved the both of them into opposite walls and continued his pursuit of Claire.  
Noel leaped in the path of the killer, and he threw a punch. To his and everyone else's surprise, it passed right through her head. She tossed a combination of her own, each connecting with their target.

The air around them grew cold, and Claire watched as Noel's breath took on the shape of a thick fog. Then, Sylar kicked the girl in the stomach, sending her flying. It took Claire a moment to realize what had happened, but she was always good at science. The cold air slowed her molecules, making it harder to phase. She became denser because of the contraction of her atoms as the slowed to conserve heat. Or something like that. It didn't really matter. There was a mutant killer on the loose, nearly unstoppable, and someone had to do something or he would take the whole island.

Claire lunged, utilizing some of what she'd seen as a cheerleader. She tackled Sylar at the knees. She prayed for a satisfying crunch of his knees breaking, but settled for them buckling. She unleashed her fists, relatively useless in one-two shots, but seriously painful after a while. She just had to keep it up.

It grew harder to breath, but she took each hit as a victory and kept at it. The world grew light and wavy at the edges, growing darker and creeping in. Then she felt it, the light telekinetic touch on the skin of her neck. It lifted her slowly of Sylar, taking her away from the madman.

He grinned as he stood, staring at her with blood trickling down from his nose, the corners of his mouth, and his eye. "Finally, I have you," he said. That's when it happened.

_**Gabriel Gray**_

_**San Ribero**_

He struggled to push himself to his feet. Sylar was here, and hungry, and Gabriel had something to give to Claire. The mere weight of it was growing, and it ached in his right forearm like searing. He grimaced, looking over at Elle, her eyes glazed over. He thought he saw the faintest motion of breath, but didn't kid himself. She was either dead or dying and there was nothing he could do for her.

He shut his eyes, still pushing against the cold, hard ground. Somewhere off in the distance, he heard a woman scream. Could be Heidi, could be Claire, could be anybody. There was nothing he could do anymore. He was just going to quit, to lay down and die.

Something in Gabriel forced him to continue, even pushing him to his feet. The world had grown infinitely foggy, and he lost control of his motions. It was like watching a movie, filmed in first person. The devastation was horrible. How could one man do so much damage? It was unthinkable, but it was only a movie.

He found himself moving towards the fallen wall of one of the towers without knowing why. He felt the rage curling deep in his stomach and knew in his heart that Sylar was close. He didn't know why, but he knew so little nowadays.

There he was, with Claire lifted up in the air by invisible hands blotching her throat. It was too late, better to have died then watch his own failure at the hands of another him. It was too bizarre, too surreal.

It slipped out of him, feeling as a snake wrapped around his arm might, cold, scaly, sinuous. It grew in size as it flowed through the air. It's form became apparent as it went; a massive white dragon, clearly of the Asian persuasion. That thought made Gabriel giggle, how it rhymed. He was beside himself, until the dragon flowed through Sylar, making Claire drop to the ground.

The tail exited Gabriel's arm, finally freeing him of the All-Gift that his cousin, Michael, cursed him with as he lay dying, but as Sylar was trapped in the beast, he felt stripped. He watched, helpless and in ever-growing pain, as Sylar became transparent. Soon, he was gone completely. To Gabriel, there was only him, the dragon, and Claire.

It was apparent that the great white dragon was heading towards Claire after awhile of it's spiraling around, that the grant show was only to escape the wretched confines that was Gabriel's body. It rushed the small blonde woman, taking her in its mouth and fading at the same time. For one second in time, Gabriel and Claire shared a thought. _Rhodora._

Then, there was only the ticking of the infernal clock. The clock was Sylar, back with Gabriel forever.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**San Ribero**_

Sylar was gone, Gabriel was down, and only Claire was left standing. She rushed outside, knowing that Peter and Nathan were still trapped on the other side of some portal, possibly nearing the end of their lives. The people here were safe for the moment; her family needed her.

Alphonse was standing in the courtyard, already deep in concentration, searching for the minds of Peter, Nathan, and the others Sylar trapped. Some of those who had fallen before were standing, dazed, confused, but alive. Heidi ran to her, wrapping her in her arms. "Thank God, Claire," she said. "I don't think I could lose everyone so soon."

"Peter and Nathan aren't gone yet," Claire said. "Neither is Monty, for that matter. Look."

The world shimmered in a circle before Alphonse, pulling the air from another world through to this one. It stank horribly of rotten meat and spoiled milk. She hated the smell. Peter came through first, carrying both Monty and Molly. He was followed by Will and a woman, with Nathan between them, bleeding from his arm.

Then, the most horrible creature burst through the spiraling portal. It looked like a Doberman, turned inside out, like something from Resident Evil. It lunged, trying to catch some of the gathered people, but they were all to alert, pulling each other away from it's gnashing, rotten teeth.

From out of nowhere it seemed, there stood a red haired man with an eye-patch over one eye. His clothes were dirty and torn, and his crimson hair was a massive, unkempt mess. A sword was strapped to his back. He thrust his hand in the mouth of the hellhound, wrapping his fingers around its bottom jam and twisted. From where she stood, she heard the snap and whimper of the creature. The strange swordsman then bashed his head into the dog's, hard enough to kill it. He turned to the crowd, with the portal closing behind him, and wiping the dog's blood of his forehead with one hand. "It's over," he said, and the crowd cheered.

It was the perfect cinematic moment, and Claire felt the world beneath her quiver. Then her mind returned to the situation at hand, and ran to Nathan and Peter, ready to give blood to the wounded.

_**Elijah**_

_**Sydney, Australia**_

He took each step slowly, letting the thump echo in the metallic hallway. He loved his underground bunkers; they pleased him greatly. Smiling, he wondered what the other two seraphim would say about his little pleasures.

His phone beeped at him. Annoyed, he answered and feared the response. It was Julie Davenport, one of the heads of his research departments. If she was calling, it could only mean one of two things. Something to do with Project: Omega or Project: Phaethon. Phaethon was a simple problem, and Julie or James knew what to do in the event of a problem of any kind. That left only Omega.

_"Sir, we have a problem," _Julie said, her own voice shaking with fear, confirming what Elijah thought. "_It's Avarice. He's gone rogue."_

Elijah hung up and quickened his pace. Avarice was the worst of the seven. Lust was already in the field; Pride was missing; Gluttony was amenable; there was yet to be a Wrath, Sloth, or Envy. Only Avarice formed an issue. Without Avarice, the whole project was doomed, and he was notoriously hard to deal with.

_(A/N – I apologize for the incredible lateness of this chapter. A number of issues came up. First of all, I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with this story after this chapter. It's still a bit of an issue, and it may again be awhile before I update so I can plot out the next arc. Then, I wanted to make this fight Epic. I felt like I was lacking that in the previous major fights, and I wanted to really make a statement here._

_The other ones are a bit more personal. I'm getting over some virus or another, and it made it very unpleasant to sit so far away from, well, I leave at unpleasant. Then, I've come across issues with my internet connection. It's finally starting to look up. Finally, I've been thinking about changing the rating for safety issues. I'll say this much so far, Avarice is a disturbed individual and a very, very bad person._

_Anyway, sorry again for the long absence. The next arc will start featuring a small number of characters, Claire, Hiro, and Will, as the rest will fade in the background. The arc is called "Discovery". I pray that the deaths surprised you. (Elle and Sylar, although he may be back) I hope you continue to enjoy my story if you do, and if you don't, I hope you will. Love, -Traumedy101)_


	38. Maddox

_**Jeremy Maddox**_

_**Mexico City, Mexico**_

He knew of Sylar's attack on San Ribero, thanks to the information leak in the facility, but there was no way out of his cell as of yet. He knew the words branded on the door and hated them. _Project: Omega, Code: Avarice. _His name was Jeremy Maddox, and he was gifted.

He watched as the nurse came in to take his blood. She'd done it for the past ten years. Maddox liked her, watching as she grew older and he didn't. He didn't grow old; it was apart of his gift. The only thing he had to worry about was the deep itch he sometimes got in his body parts. It was the first sign of decay, followed by the smell and then the burning sensation of flies burying their eggs in his flesh. The itching was now in his eyes, and that could only mean one thing. It was time to leave this facility.

He waited until the needle punctured his skin, then he snapped, bringing his fist to the side of the nurse's head. He didn't kill her, just left her reeling. He was out the door in under a second. The only real problem was the Doc, the one assigned to deal with the whole of Project Omega. James Davenport was almost as talented as Maddox himself, or at least he knew how to use his gift.

He was barely down the hall when the gusts of wind started. At the far end, he could see the doctor staring at him. Putting his hands up to cut the wind, Maddox let himself go, flexing that one little muscle he found active after the last little present from the Project.

Maddox opened his eyes, and he was behind the doctor. He doubled his fists and slammed them both into the base of Davenport's neck. He felt the small connection in Davenport's spine crumble under the force of the blow, and Davenport went down, already half dead.

He leaned over the fallen doctor, ready to pluck the man's eyes out, but he heard the cock of guns just around the corner. There was no time. Floor by floor, Maddox 'jumped' until he found himself on the surface again, for the first time in a decade. The hot sun beat down on him, and he turned north, to the center of the city.

He remembered when he first got caught by the Company, how they implanted him with a tracking device, leaving the two small marks on his neck, before they decided he was too dangerous to let loose. There were others like him all over the place, although he'd only ever met one other like himself. That was a man named Grigori Ivanovitch, a massive man who lived to eat. For a second, Maddox wondered what ole Greg was up to, wondering if Greg found himself in Omega as well, then he turned his thoughts to more pressing matters; finding new eyes.

Maddox stared at the city, smiling. For the first time in ten years, he was free, and sporting a new name to boot!. He was greed, after all, and it was about time he started living up to the name.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**San Ribero**_

The bed was small and hard. The more she thought about it, the more it blew her mind. This was the first time Claire found herself confined to a hospital bed, desperately in need of medical attention. It was just strange.

She watched entranced by the small drip as blood from her IV entered her. So this is what it was like to nearly die.

After the attack, Claire damn near drained her body of blood trying to heal the wounded. It wasn't until she collapsed that she realized that no one had been healed by her blood. Once more, she found her world twisting beneath her.

Of course, there were only two real casualties: Sylar and Elle Bishop, but then again, Sylar was no real loss. Elle, though, Elle had been important to the community, here. She was a fighter, and that, she was told, was the suspected reason Elle wasn't completely dead. No, Elle lay two beds down from Claire, in a deep, deep coma.

So, Claire watched the blood drip and listened to the slow, silent breathing of Elle, waiting for someone to come tell her what the hell was going on. It made no sense to her or to anyone she spoke with why her power quit so suddenly. Gavin was no help, just sitting there with his broken nose, looking at the ceiling when he wasn't off some where, reading. Only Heidi stayed for any amount of real time. She brought both of her boys, Claire's half-brothers around occasionally, but they seemed either disinterested or distracted to notice they now had an older sister.

Peter and Alphonse were gone, headed off somewhere so Pete could learn how to use all his talents in battle, as well as guns, swords, and whatever other weapons they thought he needed.

Nathan came and went, seeming only to want to check on everything to make sure it was still where he left it. He was beyond words to describe. It was sad to see him fall apart like that. He hadn't shaved, hadn't changed clothes, or, as far as Claire knew, showered. He was taking the world on himself.

Gavin's nose was broken after the attacks, by his cousin Will over Mackenzie. No one, it seemed, knew what had happened to her, but Claire noticed that Gabriel looked away whenever she was brought up. So did Heidi, come to think of it. Claire made a note to ask when her step-mom came back.

Gabriel now bore an scar-white spiral on his arm where the All-Gift exited him. He said it was a relief to be rid of it finally, but he was always nervous now, looking in all directions and just over all being odd. He was now moving about freely, but under the close supervision of the strange man from the portal.

Grant, as it was, was even stranger than he looked. He never looked right at Claire, and whenever the two of them were near, his face turned red and flushed, almost like a scorned or embarrassed lover. It got weirder when Grant got near Nathan. The two of them spoke in hushed tones, and Claire had only ever heard the words 'Death' and 'Blueberry Hill'. When she broached the subject with her biological father, it only made him smile forcefully and leave with his eyes tearing up. She wanted to hug Nathan, and tell them that she and Peter destroyed Blueberry Hill, that there was nothing to be afraid of, but she could never find the words when he was around.

All in all, it had been a week since the attacks on San Ribero, and Claire was starting to get the itch to move on from the island. There was something out there she needed to do; only she didn't know what. She knew Alphonse told her to leave when she had the All-Gift, and she supposed that was it, but there was still a driving need to leave. If only they would let her out of bed.

Claire turned her head and looked at Elle's lifeless body, her heart hurting for the girl. She would probably die alone, unless Peter came back to spend her last days with the comatose girl, and Claire doubted that. She wondered who, if anyone, would come with her, or if she too would be alone on this trip.

_**Jeremy Maddox**_

_**Mexico City, Mexico**_

The jail cell stank of piss and fear, and it wasn't helped by the burning in his eyes. The flies were having a feast there, and the eggs would hatch soon if he didn't do anything about it, but he couldn't rip out his own eyes without replacements. On top of that, his tongue was getting the itch of rot.

Maddox thought of the guards eyes and frowned. They were all an ugly brown, the color of thick dung, and he didn't want such in his own head. However, if another day passes without replacement, he would have to soil himself with them. Every day, the guards yelled at him in Spanish, and Maddox struggled to make himself understood.

Today, however, they brought him a gift, two of them actually; young woman and a young man. He caught sight of the young woman as they dragged her to an interrogation room. Her eyes were like emeralds, and he craved them so much his mouth watered.

The young man, on the other hand, had the usual brown eyes, only slightly better than the guards, but he spoke the local language and his tongue would do. After the guards had stuck the Latino male in the cell and left, Maddox smashed his fist into the small connection of spine, crushing it and paralyzing the boy. Leaning over the body, he ripped out the tongue and eyes of the boy, replacing his own.

Memories flood the mind of Maddox, one of the side-effects of the replacement process. The young man was Alexandro; the woman his sister, Maya. Her eyes, it seemed, were not just beautiful, but talented. This was going to be fun.

_(A/N – While this is a small chapter, it serves it's purpose of passing time and introducing the new character and gives more than hints at his talent. It's all description, and it well give hints at the changes I've made since I finished the last chapter. A few things that have changed is that Elle is not completely dead yet. That will change, one way or the other. I also have a new to-whack list, and it's star-studded so far. I haven't plotted out the entire arc yet, but I'm halfway done, and I didn't want to put off posting too long. Oh, and the arc is no longer called 'Discovery', it's called 'Others Like Us.'_

_I still plan on limiting the characters in the driver's seat, and Claire is definitely one. Peter will be sitting out for awhile. As for others, Maddox, Hiro, and the ones who go with Claire will be the feature for the next few chapters. As for Peter, he's just learning to fight with his various talents. I have big plans for this arc, and I'm hoping to answer a lot of questions, so if you have any, let me know, and I'll see to it you get an answer. Love, Traumedy101) _


	39. The Gift of Meaning

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**San Ribero**_

Claire woke to the muffled whispers of Grant and Nathan, sitting near Elle's bed. She didn't like the conspiratorial tone of the two, but couldn't think of anything way of stopping it. Besides, it was good to see Nathan with a friend. She rolled over, ready to go back to sleep, only to find Gabriel watching her with Alphonse standing behind him.

"Holy crap!" she shouted, sitting up fast. It was a mistake; the fast motion made her dizzy. Gabriel lowered her back to the bed, while Alphonse cleared his throat.  
Next time, warn a girl," she said.

Gabriel smiled, nodding. He was an attentive nurse, and Claire imagined that he wasn't so different from Peter.

Alphonse, on the other hand, frowned. "We need to talk, Claire. You need to know exactly what you've been given and what it's doing to you."

"Finally," she said, rolling her eyes and laying back. "Some answers."

"It's not that simple, Claire," Alphonse said. "You see, I've always believed the All-Gift was a myth, and now here it is, on my island, in a bed right in front of me. I'd only heard rumors of its existence, and now, it's shaking my every belief."  
He cleared his throat again, and Claire's heart went out to him. It must be hard to have lived for two thousand years, thinking you knew about everything under the sun, only to have that shattered. She still wanted her answers. "Do it like a Band-Aid then, nice and quick."

"Yes," he said. "That might be the best way to handle it. You see, the All-Gift isn't really what it sounds like. It is in fact a reality warping talent, minor but still quite powerful. It gives the user the ability to change the meaning of things, such as Michael's tattoos, as I'm sure you remember, could come to life and be used like any other talent. A fairy tattoo, for example, became another part of his essence, like astral projection."  
She nodded. It wasn't that long ago that she and Smokey encountered that fairy in an alley in Toronto on the great Peter Petrelli search of '07. It pained her to remember that however, because Smokey was now dead, as well as Michael and so many others. "That doesn't explain why I haven't been able to heal."

"It does," Alphonse said. "You see, it's interfering with your normal talent. You have to be careful. No one really knows how the talent works, and as far as I know, you were nearly the first casualty in your reign as the All-Gifted."

"What about Sylar?" Gabriel asked.

Alphonse shook his head. "That was the last in you reign, and that's the reason I've invited you here to hear this, Gabriel. You see, you two have always been bound by fate, one way or another, and now I have to ask the both of you to leave, and never come back."

Claire shot up again. "What? You can't do that! Look at me, I can barely sit up and you expect me to just leave? Have you lost your little mind?"

His frown deepened. "It's not me, it's you," he said. "Claire, you have to protect this gift with everything you have. Elijah and Vann will be hunting for you as soon as they know you have it. They long to shed their need for others to grow powerful. They want to be gods, and they will use you if they can't obtain it. It is only a matter of time before they learn of its passing. We cannot protect you here. You must go somewhere safe, and with Gabriel being the last bearer of the All-Gift, he is bound to you by Fate and must go with you to help keep it safe. If he searches his heart, he'll know it's true."

Gabriel's head fell and Claire shook her head. "But I still can't walk away? What about Peter, and Nathan, and Heidi, and my brothers, and everybody?" she asked, almost pleadingly. Then, she turned to look over at the other blond. "What about Elle? I need to help her?"

"Until you master the gift, there is nothing you can do for her," Alphonse said. "As for everyone else, we already have a number of volunteers to help see to it that you're okay. Nathan will be going with you. So will Gavin and his cousin. Emily, and Noel. Even Grant is going with you.

"As for Peter, I hate to say this, but both you and Nathan are a distraction. He needs to keep his mind on his own tasks to be ready for the war. I will continue to teach the Art of War, and soon, he will come to you and keep you safe.

"Heidi will be taking her boys somewhere they can be safe. They are being hunted by US forces, if you weren't aware, for helping you escape Armstrong, who is now reinstated and is hunting for you and Peter. There are enemies all around, Claire. The time is now."

Alphonse reached out, putting his hands on her stomach, and shut his eyes. A warming sensation filled her stomach, and she felt her body heal almost as quickly as it did under her own power.

Claire glared at the ancient boy. "What about this war? I've heard so many people talking about it, but I haven't seen any reason to go to war. I think you're just lying to me to get me to do what you want."

"Believe what you want, Claire, but we are already at war with the world," Alphonse said. "You saw Blueberry Hill. You now what they want to do with people like us. They fail to see that we are the next step in evolution, and that we only want to help. And then there is Vann, and Elijah, who only want to rule the world. Like I said, the time is now. What are you going to do?"

_**Oliver Sterling**_

_**Mexico City, Mexico**_

He watched the ground grow closer as the helicopter lowered it's way down onto a helipad in the city. The Mexican government want US help to handle a situation, what they called a "Mutant Problem". Does the US send someone from the Freakshow Agency, with a specialty in this kind of issue? No, they send FBI Agent, Oliver Sterling, two years out of Quantico, with very little understanding of Mutants but calling him an expert. If he could, he would spit in the FBI Director's face, but he couldn't, so he'd settle for doing the best job he could, trying not to screw up diplomacy with the Mexico,

Sterling met his translator on the ground, as he was being lead to the scene. The translator was a young man by the name of Juan or something. Names didn't matter. Results did. Word around the street was the Mexicans suspected Peter Petrelli for the crime.

Juan and the others took Oliver to a police station two miles from the helipad, a rinky-dink little place, and he could tell he didn't want to enter the building as first sniff. The smell of blood was thick. He pulled out a small container of Vicks and rubbed some just under his nose to cut the stench, a little trick he was taught when dealing with cadavers, and then he stepped inside.

The front room was used for interrogations and was horrible. The walls were splashed in gore. Three officers were stacked next to an over-turned desk. Another desk was pushed to the center of the room and held up the body of a young woman with no eyes. The scene held overtones of a religious ritual, but the exact religion escaped Sterling.

He shook his head. "This isn't the work of Peter Petrelli," he said, listening to Juan translate it to the Mexican officials. "Peter has only one killing on record, and it was done with a sword, nothing like this. This is someone else entirely different." The officials listened to Juan, then looked expectantly at Oliver. He frowned, shook his head, and added, "in my expert opinion."

That quelled them. They left him alone to examine the scene, taking in everything he could. It was Sterling who found the body in the cell, the one of a young man missing his tongue as well as his eyes. Another set of eyes and a tongue lay nearby, discarded, but not matching to the description of the deceased male in the cell. The eyes found were blue, not brown. And the tongue was just disturbing.

Talking to himself, he didn't realize Juan was in the room when he said, "Check the girl's mouth for a tongue." Juan ran out, translating to the Federali who was waiting for Sterling's advice on how to handle it. Soon, Juan came back, telling him that nothing was wrong with the girl's tongue, meaning it was still there.

"Who were these people?" Sterling asked, rejoining the federali.

Juan translated his answer. "Maya and Alexandro Herrera, murder suspects."

"None of this makes sense," Oliver said. "There is nothing I can do to help except make a recommendation to send a more qualified agent to handle the case." He then left the cop shop, hoping to find some fresher air.

_(A/N – another short chapter that I apologize for, but I do feel the need to clear up a few things. Maya and Alexandro make their All-Gift debut in the last chapter, and ended their run now. I just don't like either character; they always felt forced, even on the TV show. There were other characters from season two that I had plans for; mostly Monica Dawson. However, she was taken into custody by the Agency early on by Matt Parkman. It was briefly mentioned in an early chapter. She is now presumed to be dead at Blueberry Hill. West, however, was another character I didn't like. I much preferred Zach, gay or not. West was killed also at the beginning around the time Sylar was hunting in Southern California. Now, I feel like I've covered all the TV show characters except one, and she will make an appearance soon, though few will recognize her. _

_Another thing I want to say, since I'm making this a little soap box talk, is about what someone has dubbed The Sins, Gluttony, Lust, and Pride, since I don't think I will get to them soon. Gluttony has been mentioned but probably won't appear until late in the arc at the earliest. Lust has had an appearance in the story already, though few will remember her. As for Pride, she is a character from the show that I almost forgot completely about. You will see the whole list of Sins come to fruition in this Arc, as well as Claire's group grow and shrink at the same time. Everyone mentioned that will be going with her have something to do in this Arc._

_As for what seems to be America's favorite Hero, Hiro, I have plans for him, too, as well as Ando. The two of them will be experiencing something new and old, but I don't want to ruin exactly what it is._

_As of today, I have cleared up what the All-Gift is, finally, and hopefully a few other things. Again, if there are any questions about plot points I might have skimped on, let me know and one way or another they will be answered, either in an author's note, or in a future chapter._

_Oh, and as to how Nathan survived, W was sent to where he was falling and opened a portal to Warsaw. I didn't think that was coming up in a future chapter, so I thought I'd let you know. I feel that both Petrelli's deserve a believed death. Now, all bets are off though. If they die, they won't be coming back._

_Love Traumedy101)_

_PS – Grant will be doing a lot of revelations in the upcoming chapters. He'll finally give up his secrets, and 'Charlie' will make an appearance! _


	40. Down with the Facade

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Outside San Diego, California**_

Nathan was the first through the portal, followed by Grant, who clutched the hilt of his sword like he was the vanguard of a great princess. It was strange to invoke such loyalty from someone she just met, but Claire just let the whole thing slide off her back. The only thing that mattered was that Peter hadn't been there to say goodbye or see you later. He wasn't there at all.

Heidi was, and she cried as she watched her new found daughter step through a portal with her husband into unknown dangers. Monty and Simon were absent, however, and Claire was glad. They still weren't entirely keen on the whole sister thing yet.

Gabriel clung close to Claire as if she were going to protect him from the people who wanted to hurt him. No such luck. If Nathan wanted to string him up on the other side of this portal, so be it. Hell, Claire would pick the tree.

The strange girl, Emily, hung close to Grant. The sight of her black eye gave Claire shivers. Who could do that to someone?

Of the rest of the people who came with her, Claire had no words. She knew Gavin was coming, but Will was a surprise, considering his recent tension with Gavin. Noel was coming under orders from Peter, Claire assumed. In all, the experience was just strange.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Gavin said, "but how is this going to work out?"

Claire looked around. They were behind a hotel, where Nathan was planning on getting rooms for everyone. It was one of the benefits of traveling with someone of his wealth. "We get rooms, and then we go to sleep. What do you mean how is this going to work? Haven't you ever been to a hotel?"

Gavin nodded. "Yes, too many perhaps, but in case you haven't noticed, there is an odd number of boys and odd number of girls. That means that one male and one female are going to be rooming together, unless we're all getting separate rooms."

Nathan shook his head. "That's not happening. We don't know how long we're going to be on the road, and I only have so much money. There isn't a problem, though. Claire and I will share a room." He said all this with a glare at Gavin, trying to back him down, but Gavin didn't get the hint.

"Why is that?" he asked. "You sharing a room with a girl Claire's age is kinda creepy, don't you think? Besides, I think it would be best if I shared a room with Claire."

Grant pushed between the two of them. "Either way, I'm sticking with Sylar there." His eye was pointed straight at the man who once killed to gain talents like trading cards.

Nathan grabbed Gavin by the shirt. "Apparently you don't understand the whole situation, little boy. Claire is my daughter. If you even lay a hand on her, I will take you so high in the air and let you go, that when you hit the ground, parts of you will splatter all the way in Australia." Nathan's voice didn't rise, and there was no aggression in it, but it was still filled with threat and loathing. This wasn't a problem Claire anticipated.

Luckily, Gavin backed down. "I didn't know, it's just that Claire and I have been through so much, I figured I was the most trustworthy. I concede." There was no fear in his voice, but Claire knew he was scared. Nathan wasn't a man to cross. Gavin gave himself away when he added, "Sir," to the mix.

Nathan turned away from the boy, with a sneer. "I'll get the rooms. You all wait here," he said, walking away.

Claire sat under a tree, listening to the sound of trucks passing on the other side of the hotel. It wasn't the most pleasant sound in the world, but it was better than the screams that she'd started to get used to. Then, another problem presented itself.

"I can't believe you left her alone," Will said, grumbling. "You knew what she was like, and you just abandoned her."

Gavin snorted. "Me? What about you? You left us with nothing but a vague phone call. Where the hell were you when the storm hit, because you sure as hell weren't with her."

Will balled his fists up and swung at Gavin, barely missing. Claire was up and in the way a second too late as Will let loose a minor sonic burst. He was a little too good at throwing those around. It was Grant that lifted Will up. "You mind not drawing attention to us. We're hunted people here," Grand said. "You should know better than most about what we're dealing with, Claire. Why don't you fill him in on what you saw at Blueberry Hill?"

Claire's mouth fell open. She didn't know what to say, but she didn't have to say anything, because Grant continued.

"If you could see what I do, you'd know exactly what she's feeling, and it wouldn't make you feel to good about your petty squabbles."

"Petty squabbles?" Will asked, verging on hysteria. "Mackenzie and I were going to get married!" he spit in Grant's good eye. "Now, she's probably being tortured because she meet Claire in Seattle!"

"She's not getting tortured," Gabriel said, quietly but drawing all the attention anyway. "She's dead, if you mean Mackenzie Wilkes."

Will's head snapped so hard, Claire heard it popping over the passing trucks. "What the hell did you do to her?"

Grant lost his grip over Will, and Will was on Gabriel, swinging hard, each punch connecting. Nobody saw Nathan as he flew in, slamming against Will and pinning him to a tree. "Calm down," Nathan said. "If you have to fight, wait until later."

"Screw that," Will said, throwing Nathan's hands away from him. "If you want that little psycho, you ain't getting me. I'm out of here." He just walked off. Grant and Nathan exchanged a glance as cold as ice, and Claire shivered. Something in the looks in there eye told her that this is what they were waiting for.

Nathan shook his head, getting his mind straight, and passed out keys. Gavin was given a room to himself, since the others had roommates, still. As Claire lead the others around the hotel to find their rooms, she looked back to see Grant put a hand on Nathan's shoulder, frowning, and said, "Tomorrow, then you know what you have to do."

_**Hiro Nakamura**_

_**San Ribero**_

They were somewhere in the mountains, Peter and Hiro, and both lay on the cool stone in the shade, sweating and waiting to catch their breath. Hiro wondered if the pain in his muscles would ever go away. Nearby, two swords lay; Hiro's own katana and Peter's long sword that Alphonse called Excalibur. Doubtful it was the real one, but nowadays, who could tell.

Sakura would be joining them in a few days, as she was getting used to her own power again, per Alphonse's instructions. Ando was looking after her. The man from Poland, Luca, was down in the village, learning English, hopefully, as well as making friends.

Hiro sighed. "In so little time, Peter Petrelli, you have matched every attack I can throw at you. How do you do it so quickly?"

"Hiro, I wish I knew," Pete said. "I guess it's apart of my ability. I'm absorbing the skill you have. So get better, or we'll never beat Alphonse." He threw a chummy punch at Hiro, just missing his arm.

"Not true," Hiro said. "Soon, Sakura will join us, and with the three of us, it will be no problem. Peter Petrelli must have faith in our combined ability."

"I do, Hiro," Pete said. "There's just more going on then three people can handle, especially when you don't speak perfect English, while Sakura and I need you or Ando to communicate at all." He took a few deep breaths. "You know, it's time you start calling me Peter, or Pete. There's no need to throw in my last name every time."

"I'm sorry," Hiro said, adding, "Pete."

Movement caught their eye, and they turned to face the small forest on the mountainside. Standing there was a woman with long blonde hair and soft blue eyes. Strapped to her back was a massive broadsword, and Hiro wondered how she could use it.

Pete spoke first. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled. "They call me Charlie." Hiro's eyes went wide, confused at the memory of the name, and the woman's smile grew bigger. "Yes, I was named after that Charlie, Hiro Nakamura. You look good, by the way."

Hiro turned to Peter, sensing that the other man was in a fit of déjà vu. Pete had once told Hiro about his visit from Future Hiro and assumed the same about this woman. He looked the woman in the eye. "What time do you come from?"

"Very quick, Hiro, very good," Charlie said. "I am from the future, and I am here to put you to work." She stared at Pete. "In a few days time, you will sense the danger surrounding your brother. You must let it be and continue with your training. Nathan knows what he must do, and you if you interfere with it when it comes, then all hope is lost."

"What are you talking about?" Pete asked. "I can't let anything happen to my brother. If you're from the future, then you must know that."

Charlie nodded. "I do, but if you want to save the world, you must let Nathan be. This is his work, not yours. Stay out of it. If you do, I promise you will see him again, alive."

"How can you possibly…" Pete started, but Charlie was gone.

_**Emily North**_

_**Outside San Diego, California**_

She sat on the bed in her room, waiting for Noel to come back. She sat thinking about other worlds and dangerous talents. Looking at her hands, she didn't notice when the door opened and Grant came in. "Hey, how are you doing?" he asked, spooking her.

"Fine," she said, noticing how tired he looked in the eye he showed the world. It was a disorienting feeling because he switched the eye-patch to the other eye. "What's wrong?" she asked, alarm rising in her chest. "It's him, isn't it?" She meant Gabriel.

Grant shook his head. "No, it's not his time, yet, but it will happen, I think. I'm just tired of hiding, and there isn't anyone else I can talk to." He looked at her, with tears spilling out of his eye. "Can I stay here for awhile?" he asked, looking a little like a child.

She nodded, opening her arms to receive him. He curled up in ball in her protecting arms. "Tell me all about it."

"You do know that Grant isn't my real name either, don't you?" he asked. "I have to hide who I really am so I can do the work I've been sent on. It's getting harder to do."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember mentioning Charlie? She sent me here to save the world. I'm from the future, Emily. I've meet you all before, and I know what has to be done, and who won't live through the next few days. Do you have any idea what kind of burden this is on a man?"  
"Grant, you're not making any sense," Emily said. "Who's going to die?"

Grant just shook his head. "Emily, I know what you can do and there's no reason to be afraid," he said, changing the subject. She wanted to push him away. He reminded her of _Him._ _He_ was her husband once, when she was much younger. _He _wasabusive. _He _hit her whenever _He _drank. _He _spoke in ways she didn't understand. She didn't know if they were riddles or not, but she still didn't understand them.

Instead, she shushed him. When Noel came in an hour later, the two of them were asleep.

_(A/N – What I was trying to get across in this chapter is that Grant works for Charlie in the future and that he has come back to see that things go a certain way. However, it came out all jumbled, and I don't know if it made sense. Grant's story is a long and convoluted one that will take more than a few chapters to tell. It is in my opinion that this is one of the worst chapters I've written, and it's due in part to the fact that this is mostly back-story and traveling. The action will pick up again soon, I hope. My outline has changed, and now I have nothing beyond this chapter but the place where I want to end up. Here goes nothing. Love – Traumedy101)_


	41. For Want of a Penny

_(A/N – For some unknown reason, my computer ate all my files, so I had to start the outline over. There may be a few continuity errors at first, but I hope not. Just call them to my attention if you see any. If I have other plans and it fits into my plot, then I'll just say so. However, this wasn't entirely a bad thing. I now know exactly where this arc is headed, and have all the room to go that way now. The arc is once again receiving a name-change, so I'm glad this isn't for television. Up until the end of the last arc till some time in the near future, the Arc is called "Wisdom of Elders", and I will use "Other's Like Us" later. I'd planned on introducing new characters in the arc with the latter name, but I wanted to cut back, so it seemed contradictory. Now, it can wait, and I'm happy/ ___

_One other thing, Elliesmeow asked why so many people were sent back in time to give a warning. The answer is many. Grant is from a fixed future. He only remembers the last time line he was in. He never learned of Peter's connection to Nathan, only that Nathan would be in danger. It is due to the manner of their powers. Grant's has nothing to do with time, being a Empathic Projector. "Charlie", however, is just a time traveler. While she cannot teleport from place to place, she can jump from timeline to timeline, learning as much as is possible. I didn't want to repeat the power exactly. And she isn't done. Charlie, shall we say, has issues. _

_Anyway, time for the next chapter! Love, Traumedy101)_

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Outside San Diego, California**_

The sun was an hour away, and Nathan couldn't sleep. Instead, he stood on the balcony outside their hotel room, looking at Grant make his way from the pool to the stairs. Grant was wet, and looked entirely different without his eye-patch. It wasn't the only change in his appearance, however, since he'd shaved recently.

Grant took a spot next to Nathan, looking out at the open expanse in front of the hotel, disrupted only by the occasional truck. After a what felt like an eternity, Nathan asked, "Is this the only way?"  
With a quick motion, Grant covered one of his eyes, sealing his talent in. Then, he nodded. "I've told you time and time again what you must do, and you agreed at the time. Why this sudden change in attitude?"

"As if you didn't know," Nathan grumbled, turning away.

"I try not to pry, Mr. Petrelli," Grant said, shrugging. "Yes, I know."

The two of them held the secret of truth between them like they were as one, like Atlas when he held up the sky. Only a day after the escape from the other world, Grant came to Nathan with a message from his future self. It was strange to know your own words from god knew how many years in the future, but Nathan struggled through. "We're finally starting to connect, and now I have to leave her? It's just not fair."

"Charlie said," Grant started, but Nathan cut him off.

"Forget Charlie! This is my life, not hers or yours or anyone else's! Butt out!"

Grant put a hand on Nathan's shoulder, no doubt feeling the muscles shivering with an unknown fear. Some would mistake it for fury, but not Grant. "Who do you think told me to send you on this quest? I may take orders from Charlie, but I always worked for you."

Nathan looked at him with watery eyes, confused. "What about Claire, though? Who's going to be there for her, should this thing go south?"

"I will," Grant said. "I will walk with her every step I can. And Gavin is trust-worthy, you know. He means what he says."

"That's right, you can see feelings," Nathan said, once again turning defensive.

"A wise man once told me 'for want of a penny, the kingdom was lost," Grant said, staring off into the rising sun. "I'm sure you know what it means."

"Of course I do. I take it I was the one who told you." Grant nodded, and Nathan turned his mind once again to the task at hand. "What will you tell Claire?"

"That you went after Will, hoping to reconcile with him," Grant said.

Nathan nodded, noticing that Grant wouldn't look at him but ignoring it. He took to the air, flying north, in hopes of finding what Grant told him he would.

_**Gabriel Gray**_

_**Outside San Diego, California**_

He was going insane. The constant ticking that once lead his actions down a very dark road had returned full force after the appearance of the white dragon, and the scar the showed up itched. The sight of Claire hung heavy in his lungs; he wanted her power, but he couldn't even muster his own; the stolen ones, that is.

His telekinesis was gone; his cyrokinesis; super hearing; all of them. He could only assume that since he was remerged with the side of himself known as Sylar, they disappeared.

Outside his window, Gabriel heard the voice of Grant and Nathan, and he wondered what was so important for Nathan to leave his daughter when they were finally bonding. The only thing he could think of, however, was how easy it would be to get at the cheerleader now. He tried to shove the thoughts down and go to sleep, knowing that they were heading out at dawn.

_**Jeremy Maddox**_

_**El Paso, Texas**_

The path to Vegas was clear, and Maddox loved every minute of his trip. The only problem was he knew it was only a matter of time before another part of his started to shut down. He had a three month gap between the tongue and the legs, then the feet would go another week after. It dug its way into his brain.

He wished he never left the damned facility in Mexico. Then, he would be given the next body parts, enough to last him five years. He would have to hunt, something he hadn't done in a decade, a decade of waiting in the frikin' glorified basement. He felt fat and spoiled.

Maddox sat behind the desk of an El Paso hotel, taking the names of the people who wanted to stay there for awhile. He didn't care what they did, as long as they kept giving him money. Lying next to the chair was the original night clerk, with a fork sticking out of his neck. Maddox looked at the man and laughed. The clerk had been a hell of a bleeder, hitting the ceiling in the first jut.

It was his first kill in freedom, and it was for fun as well as for training. He knew that he had to get control over himself if he was going to pull this off. Vegas was a breeding ground for mutants, he'd heard, and he planned on gaining as many of their talents as well as harvest their bodies as he could.

Sitting just out of sight was his notebook, which he jotted down the body parts he would need to put off the next shut down for five years, just like he would have gotten in the facility.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Outside San Diego, California**_

"No way!" Claire said. "Nathan wouldn't leave without saying goodbye at least. What happened?"

Grant shrugged. "He said he had business up north, something about that kid, Will. He said it was too bad about the way it was left.

Claire glared at the strange man, knowing that at the moment, Noel was hotwiring a car to take their shrinking group north to LA; Grant's chosen destination. He said he had work to do there, and that Claire would learn about the next leg of her journey. Claire didn't ask how he knew such things, just chalked up to the wisdom of her elders, like Alphonse, although that didn't really work out for her, did it. She hated the way these people that came with her looked for her for direction. She didn't know anymore than them, and yet they expected her to lead them to the Promised Land, like some modern day Moses, like she was going to raise her hands and split the fog of uncertainty that blocked their path.

"Claire," Grant said quietly, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Perhaps, you would like to learn how to fight with a sword. If you want, I could teach you." It was a half-question, but he didn't wait for an answer. He just walked off. Claire could have cheerfully clocked him, like she did Jackie back in the good ole days, when she was just a lonely freak in Texas.

The whole thing was going to far. She wasn't this great leader that everyone seemed to believe she was. She couldn't do anything without help. Hell, she couldn't even shoot Peter when he was about to blow up New York. Nathan had to fly in and save the day.

Thinking of the man who fathered her, she smiled. Come to think of it, whenever Claire really needed it, Nathan seemed to be there. Maybe he would come flying in to save her again.

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Near San Francisco, California**_

He sat in the back of the paddy wagon, smiling and bleeding from his lip. This is what Grant wanted; for him to be caught by the Agency, so Nathan could do something there, something to draw the attention from what Claire was doing. He would do it with pride. For sixteen years, he wasn't there for her. He felt like he could make up for half of it with this one thing. If they tortured him, let them. With Claire in his heart, he would take on the world.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Los Angeles, California**_

She eyed the swords in the shop with fear at the death instruments. Grant seemed at home with the sharp, long knives. He held each sword with such skill that even the shop owner was impressed. Turning to Claire, he asked, "Well, see any you like?"

Claire shrugged, intimidated by the swords. "I don't know. What should I look for?"

Grant and the owner shared a laugh. "A sword is just an extension of yourself. Just tell me what's calling you, and I will tell you everything you need to know," Grant said, drawing looks from the owner.

She pointed to one, with a heavy price tag, and said, "I kind of like that one."

The owner lifted the sword from its case. "A French cutlass with a gilded basket hilt. Nice choice."

Grant took it by the butt and stepped away, swinging it. "Nice balance, light weight; yeah, this is the one for you. Here, hold it. Tell me what you think."

Claire took the sword from Grant. She was shocked at how well it fit her hand. It was like she'd been missing a part of her soul and now it was back, without her ever knowing it was gone. "Yeah, this is it. How much?"

"Three thousand," the owner said, with a straight face.

"Oh," Claire said, a little broken hearted. "We don't have that much. What else do you have like this that might be a bit cheaper?"  
While this little exchange was going, Claire missed Grant digging into his back pocket and pulling out an envelope stuffed with cash. He paid the shop-keep, grabbed Claire by the arm, and dragged her out of the store. She'd missed something, but didn't know what. There was fear radiating from Grant, and it was catching.

"What is it, Grant?" Claire asked.

"There was a wanted poster behind the counter; you." Grant headed towards their hotel. "We might have to get out of the city, fast. Do you think Gavin could get the others to a safe place in Frisco?" Claire shrugged. "Do you have his number?"

Claire pulled out her cell phone, trying to go through the electronic phone book while be pulled sharply by the arm through traffic. "No," she said when the finally stopped outside a donut shop. "How bad is this?"

Grant looked at her, eyeing her closely. She felt exposed and naked before his gaze. "This isn't your fault, Claire. It's mine. I should have paid more attention," he said after a moment. "After all, you're just sixteen, while I'm forty-five. I'm getting slow in my old age."

That did the trick. Claire was ready to listen to the man out of pity for his seemingly scatterbrained mistake and do what needed to be done. It was her one big flaw; that she was so easily swayed for sentimental reasons.

_**Emily North**_

_**Los Angeles, California**_

"Listen, Gavin! This guy isn't right!" Emily struggled to get someone to listen to her. "He talks in his sleep about Claire, Nathan, Peter; the whole Petrelli Family. He calls out sometimes for someone named Etheridge. I don't think its safe for Claire to be by herself with this man!"

"Claire is a big girl, she can take care of herself," Gavin said, trying to listen through the walls to Gabriel. If only Noel was in the room with them, Gavin could get her to slip in through the wall. There were advantages to being a mutant; but during the daylight hours, Gavin was substantially weaker. There just weren't that many shadows, not like there were during the night.

"You don't understand! I think he's in love with Claire! We can't trust him!"

Gavin sighed. "Give me one good reason why he can't be trusted and we'll round up a posse to go find Claire."

Emily took a deep breath. She didn't think he would take this much convincing. "When I first met him, he called himself Emil Blonsky. Last night, he told me Grant wasn't his real name either. He told me he was from the future, and then cried. I think he did something to Nathan, to make way for himself in Claire's life."

"I just don't believe a man would an alias for an alias," Gavin said. "It's just too farfetched."

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Los Angeles, California**_

"Listen up, Blondie," Grant said, taking his time now walking back to the hotel. "This is your first lesson. It's called the Rise and Fall of Legends."

"What are you talking about?" Claire asked, but got ignored.

"You see, there is a path a hero takes. It always starts with a rise. Like Will, back in Seattle, when he was taking back the streets. He was finally in his element. Then comes temptation; which for Will, came in the form of Peter in New York. Then the fall, or the death of Mackenzie. Self-doubt and mental frustrations are abound right now in is head. He can't decide who to blame, and is thinking about coming after you, Peter, Gavin, and Gabriel. He fails to see that he is the one at most fault."  
"What does this have to do with me?" Claire asked. "I thought I was learning to use a sword."

"No," Grant said with an edge in his voice. "That's a part of the lesson, true, but not the only one. I'm going to teach you to be a hero, Claire Bennet." Offhandedly, he added, "My time is running short."

_**Jeremy Maddox**_

_**El Paso, Texas**_

Maddox tired of the game of "Hotel Clerk" and was running out of patience with all of El Paso. He knew he had a special talent, and wanted to try it out. A gift from a woman named Maya.

He shut his eyes. When he opened them, black goo poured out like tears. He walked out of the office into the courtyard, watching as the customers fell to the ground, writhing before finally falling still. He could taste their suffering, and it was sweet.

_(A/N – Since this is a long chapter, I thought I'd throw in fun-facts. To start, in the original version, Claire went to a school operated by the Agency, to teach future agents, taught by Mohinder and Ortega. I had a few students planned out. Noel, Monica, Gavin, Luca the Duplicate Man of Warsaw, a German with super-speed, a French man with some power that I can't remember, and a man who deteriorates living tissue. The last was the original love interest for Claire._

_Another little bit of info, Mackenzie was originally going to start a love triangle with Peter and Will, and she had the power of Cyrokinesis, the opposite power of Teagan, who was her twin._

_The last fun-fact is that Nathan was originally supposed to die during the storm, while Peter fought with an African King who ruled like a tyrant with his power of Pyrokinesis, starting fires and burning his people's crops._

_Love, Traumedy101)_


	42. Sacrifice

_(A/N – Elliesmeow, another question, although not one I ever gave thought too. The question, is there a current love interest for Claire? The short answer is yes, although neither of them have made their intentions known. It will come up in the next arc._

_Keep the questions coming if I leave something out or you think of something I might want to add. Love, Traumedy101)_

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Outside Los Angeles, California**_

She was running out of steam after healing from a hundred or so minor wounds. Grant showed no sign of injury or fatigue as he swung his long sword, teaching Claire how to wield the cutlass he'd bought her three days ago. Still, she couldn't even get close to hitting him, let alone winning one of his little duels.

Finally, as the sun started to sink, he slowed. "There is something you have to understand, Claire," he said. "All your life, you will be a victim if you don't learn to defend yourself."

"What are you talking about?" she asked. Again, Grant was going off on his own little tangents. She still remembered the last one, where he spoke of heroes.

"You really need to pick up some comic books or something," Grant said, sheathing his sword. "You're the niece of one of the world's most powerful mutants. He's going to have enemies. Just like Gwen Stacey, their going to come after you. Gwen died, unable to fight for herself. You have a head start; an ability of your own."

Claire was lost. She didn't know who Gwen Stacey was, but she had a guess that it had something to do with comic books. She looked over at the others still with her and asked Gavin, "Who is Gwen Stacey?"

He looked up, nearly asleep. "Spider-Man's first girlfriend. She died after being captured by the Green Goblin. Why?"

"No reason," Claire said, turning back to Grant. "What do you want from me? I'm giving it my all, and you have to go and through in your random little lessons about stuff I don't know about. I'm just a cheerleader…"

"Quiet!" Grant said, nearly screaming. His voice had taken an edge to it, much sharper than his sword could ever have. "It's time to drop that cheerleader bull crap and deal with the real world. You haven't been a cheerleader for a long time and you know it. You are so much more, and if you don't face it now, than you'll never be ready in time."

"In time for what, Grant?" she said, letting her own voice convey her frustration at such a hard-headed man. "If you can't tell me that, then you're just wasting your time with me. Deal with that!" She stormed over to Gavin and the others.

There was a general malaise among the people. Noel and Emily seemed to be the most lethargic. There just wasn't any thing to do but wait for the sign that Grant said would come. There was no guarantee that it would, just his word. There was no more time.

She glared at them. "It's time we decide where we're going next. Any ideas?"

Gavin and Gabriel looked up, feeling fire in their veins for the first time in a long time. "Maybe we should talk about Rhodora first," Gabriel said.

"What?" Claire asked.

"You know, that's what you were thinking when the All-Gift left me and entered you," he said, getting shy."  
Claire rolled her eyes. Rhodora was a kind of flower. She thought someone she knew liked that kind of flower. "It's a waste of time."

"Your little act of defiance makes it worse," Grant said, from behind her. She turned. He was standing there, his sword back in hand. "If you really want to face your future so fast, then come and do it."  
Claire's blood boiled in her veins and she threw herself into the fight.

_**Will Stone**_

_**San Francisco, California**_

Time wore heavily on his heart as he walked the hills of San Francisco. Who was responsible for Mackenzie's death? Will was quick to blame Gabriel; he was a known killer after all, and that made him the most likely to do the deed. Besides, how did he know Mackenzie? Just what the hell did he miss in New York?  
Then, there was Peter, who came to Will in New York, asking for him to leave Mackenzie and enter a fight that Will had no idea about. And Will, who was star-struck by the appearance of his personal hero, jumped at the opportunity to help. It raised the issue of vengeance, though, and Will stood no chance against Peter in a fight, so Will was loathe to point the finger that way.

He most blamed Gavin. He'd left his cousin there to keep an eye on her, to protect her, and Gavin left to be with the blonde. As if Mackenzie wasn't important.

Oh, there was thought. Claire. It all went down hill once Claire came to Seattle. It was for her they went to New York in the first place. Even better, he could take out all the revenge he wanted on her, let her heal, then go again. He smiled.

Will turned a corner and walked into a nest of Agents. He blended with the crowd, looking at the van the Agents came out of. He saw a number of pictures of wanted Mutants. He was surprised to find that Gabriel was no longer among them. Instead, he saw pictures of the good guys. There was Peter, Hiro, Nathan, and Claire.

His mind stopped, and he saw before him the path he was on. It was a dangerous one, one where every action meant a fall from grace. Mackenzie would spin in her grave. The world slowed as he looked around, finally getting what was going on. The Agents were doing tests to find Mutants. He remembered the stories of Blueberry Hill.

_If this is what it means to be a good guy now, _he thoughts, turning around, _then I will be the greatest villain this world has ever seen. _

"Hey, you!" one of the agents shouted at Will. He glanced over his shoulder to see a man in a white coat running, bringing the blood-test kit. "You need to be tested first!"

"Let me save you some time," Will said, nearly blind with clarity. He spun, swinging his hands out. The first shock waves struck the van, sending airborne. Will loosed another sonic blast into the group of armed Agents, throwing them through the glass window of some shop.

He ran as the opened fire. If they were after Claire, then he needed to help her, if only for Mackenzie. He wanted her to be proud of him.

_**Oliver Sterling**_

_**El Paso, Texas**_

The FBI agent stood in the center of the carnage. Fifty people in and around a small hotel just outside El Paso, all dead of the same, inexplicable disease. Sterling frowned. Who could do such a thing without so much as an alarm raised?

"This look familiar to you, Agent Sterling?" one of the local officers asked.

Sterling nodded. "I heard rumors of something like this happening down south, near Hondouras. The person was ID'd, though."  
The local nodded. "So you know who you're looking for?"

Oliver shook his head. "We found the two suspects dead in Mexico City." He stepped over the bodies, letting the officer stew with that information. Sterling knew exactly what he was looking for. The same person who did the Mexican job did this. He was loathe to admit, but they just might have another Sylar on their hands.

"Agent!" a local cop called out. "You have a phone call."

Sterling made his way to the van which he operated out of. Since his little excursion to Mexico City, he'd been made the FBI's official mutant handler. They gave him a van, but little else, so they didn't draw the attention of the Mutant Agency. He took the phone from the local with a grimace, knowing that a call like this could only mean one thing. They finally decided to interfere with the Agency. "Agent Sterling speaking," he said.

"Is this line secure?" a woman's voice asked, his superior, one Ms. Natalie Woods.

"In this brave new world," Sterling said, "who the hell knows."

"It'll have to do," Ms. Woods said. "We've received a tip that Claire Bennet is around Los Angeles. As I'm sure you know, she's fourth on the Agency's list of most wanted. We want you to bring her in. We have plans for her that don't involve that blood mill agency."

"I'm on it," Sterling said, knowing full well that they wanted to find out why she was so dangerous. The girl was sixteen, going on seventeen; she was a cheerleader back in high school; and she had no criminal record or criminal tendencies. It made no sense. Hanging up, he turned to local official. "A case file on this has been opened, and we'll look into is as soon as we can. Right now, we have more pressing matters at hand." Oliver turned his back on the cop and crawled into driver's seat of his van. LA was a ways off, but he knew he could be there in about two days, if he hurried.

_**Nathan Petrelli**_

_**Blueberry Hill, Nevada**_

The light burned its way through his one good eye. He sat, tied to the chair with dried blood on his face and in his hair, his right eye swollen shut, with that frikin bright light shining directly in his open face.

Sitting before him was ex-Senator Armstrong, with a fat grin on his face. Nathan knew they believed he would break soon.

"Are you ready to tell us where Peter is?" Armstrong asked, showing his teeth in his wide grin. Nathan pulled his head back, pulling all the spit, blood, and snot he could muster and spit it directly in Armstrong's face. The former senator's face turned red, and he slammed his fist into the side of Nathan's head. The world swayed from the shock of the blow.

Another voice threw in their two cents from the darkness of the corner. "Play nice, you two." It sounded familiar, but Nathan couldn't put a face to the voice.

Armstrong responded with anger, grabbing Nathan's hair and yanking. "Tell me where he is, or so help me God, I will kill you!"  
Nathan laughed, again and again. In his mind, though, he cried out. _Run, Claire! Be safe!_

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Los Angeles, California**_

She sat alone with Gavin on the roof of their hotel, starring up at the night sky. "Have you heard what their doing?" she asked.

"About the random tests, yeah, I heard."  
"It's madness," Claire said. "It's only a matter of time before we walk into one of those. Then what? We get shipped off to a place like Blueberry Hill? I'll fight, Gavin, I swear to God, if it comes to that, I will kill them."

"You won't have to," Gavin said, trying to calm her. "Grant can see these things coming a mile away. He won't let that happen."

"What about Nathan? What do you think is happening to him?"

Gavin sighed. "I suspect that he's having a harder time of convincing Will to come back than he thought. Why else would we still be here in LA, when we could be in some small town, waiting for these random blood checks to fade out?"

"Grant says were waiting for a sign of where to go next."  
"Do you believe him?"

Claire nodded. "I have to believe in something, and he seems so sure of himself. Do you know what he told me today? That to become a hero, we must give up things we hold most dear. It's a sacrifice, he said. Just like Gwen Stacey had to go to give Spider-Man the will to fight. If that's true, what will be taken from me?"

Gavin shrugged. "I don't know."

_**Jeremy Maddox**_

_**Somewhere in Nevada**_

The burning in his legs distracted him so much that he couldn't teleport anymore, leaving him stranded in the desert. He was lost, with no sun to guide him. He missed Las Vegas, by some fluke, and now, God only knows where he is. Worse, the desert sun was tearing his time buffer to shreds. By morning, the itching would be in his feet.

Looking up through the chilly night air, he spotted the facility and sensed what was inside, waiting for him. It was the feast he promised himself. He'd heard it mentioned in the facility in Mexico City. Blueberry Hill. Maddox pushed himself to his feet, licking his lips. It was time to change.


	43. The ArchVillian

_**Grant Woodruff**_

_**Los Angeles, California**_

Early morning, the sun was just above the horizon, and Grant knew fear for the first time in fifteen years. He raced through the lobby of the hotel. He'd just received his first real communication with Charlie since he came back in time to see to that things went the way the should, and it scared him. Forces were going to converge over this hotel, all to gain the girl.

He hit the stairs, running, trying to force Claire from his mind. Time was running short, and he still needed to tell her things, about herself and where she needs to go after this.

From the lobby, he heard the first shouts of the staff as it hit the fan. Within seconds, the fire alarms went off. This could make getting to Claire easier. She could come down this stairwell in attempt to escape the fires.

Sure enough, there she was, with Gavin and Emily, the two in the group he really trusted. "We need to go," he said, trying not to convey his emotions.

"Yeah, there's a fire," Emily said, sarcastically. She was loosening up a bit; too bad it was only killing precious time.

"You don't understand," Grant said. "The fire is coming for you. It's not a fire at all; it's people."

"You know, I'm sick of hearing you say 'you don't understand'. Get some new lines!" Claire said, turning away.

Grant tried to control his anger. "This isn't the time to give me lessons on repetition, do you think? Just maybe?" He reached out to grab her arm and drag her out of the building, but Gavin grabbed his wrist.

"You want to watch your hands, or you just might lose them, old man," Gavin said, applying pressure to his wrists. Grant spun, flipping Gavin up and over his head and nearly tossing the boy downstairs.

Fire jutted through the open door, singing the bottom of Gavin's shoes, and Emily nearly screamed. "Time to go," Grant said, pushing the girls and dragging the boy up the stairs.

"Where you going?" a new voice asked, coming from one floor up. Grant glanced in time to see the barrel of gun pointed at his head.

"Piss off, Sterling," Grant growled, reaching for his sword.

From below them, one of the Pyrokinetic's sent by Elijah entered the stairwell and came up after them. "What the…" the FBI agent said, before losing his eyebrows in a jet of flame.

Grant's sword was out and swinging, nearly taking off Gavin's head as he fought the Pyro down below. The Pyro was a young man with thick black hair. Grant planted a foot in his chest, sending down the stairs. He heard the snap of the boy's neck break on the way down. "GO!" he screamed, grabbing Claire and leaving the others to fend for themselves.

_**Jeremy Maddox**_

_**Blueberry Hill, Nevada**_

Using the new legs he picked up from a telekinetic, Maddox hurried through the building with new vigor. The sirens blaring in his ears, the occasionally scuffle with armed guards. It was great!  
Maddox burst through a door into a bright, interrogation room. Inside was a severely wounded man tied to a chair. The man known as Avarice didn't hesitate; he kicked the injured man in the chest, sending him backwards. Reaching down to his own feet, Maddox knew now that this was the last piece of the puzzle. He grabbed his feet and yanked, enjoying the sickening plop as the came off.

He grabbed the man's feet and ripped, nearly crashing into the wall as the ankles gave way. The man screamed while Maddox put them to the stubs at the end of his legs, laughing at the tingling as the new flesh melded with the old.

His mind flooded with the memories of the man whose feet he now wore; a young male nurse trying to fly; the discovery of a daughter; cheating on a wife; two boys; near death next to an exploding man. It was the daughter that caught his attention the most. She was beautiful, almost perfect.

Smiling, Maddox said, "Claire," before taking to the sky with his newly acquired ability.

_**Peter Petrelli**_

_**San Ribero**_

The urge to run to Nathan was too much, and Peter shut his eyes, trying to teleport directly to his brother. "Where is he?" he asked himself again and again. If only he could have gotten Molly's talent. He wasn't around long enough to connect, though he tried every time she went around asking about Matt or Mohinder. The truth was the longer he stayed in San Ribero; the more he lost touch with those around him.

After an hour, Peter knew it was too late to save his brother. He gave up, ready to spit in the face of Alphonse, or that bitch Charlie. Sweat poured down his face from the strain and worry, and he wobbled unsteadily on shaky legs. Something bad just happened, and it was happening again, only this time, to Claire.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Los Angeles, California**_

Will burst through the lobby window as Gavin and Claire ran through. Grant was supposed to be on the roof with the man he called Sterling. Emily was gone. Of Gabriel and Noel, there was no sign.

Gavin ducked as Will charged him. When Will's hands came up, both Gavin and Claire thought the fight just grew worse. Instead, the sonic blast went over Gavin's head and into to the pursuing pyrokinetic. "C'mon, Gavin!" Will said over the crackle of the burning hotel. "I thought you played football!" Will grinned like a fool as he grabbed their arms and pulled them towards the street.

_**Oliver Sterling**_

_**Los Angeles, California**_

He glanced down at the street, wondering how far to the ground it really was. They may have to jump. Five stories, an almost lethal combination. Sterling pulled his gun, and fired over the stranger's head, trying to hit the pyro's who had them trapped.

The strange man spun around, swinging his sword, and bringing it back into the stomach of their attackers. Then, he grabbed Oliver by the shoulders and screamed in his face. "Tell Claire to go to Aspen! Tell her to find Barnabas Hill! He is the next step for them!"

Oliver tried to ask what the hell that meant, but the man shoved him away. He got the hint and ran for the stairs.

_**Claire Bennet**_

_**Los Angeles, California**_

What the hell is going on? she asked herself. The world was going to hell fast was the best answer she could get. The three of them starred up at the roof where Grant was believed to be. They heard the sounds of a helicopter.

It was Claire who saw the first sign of Nathan flying in to save the day. She ran to where it looked like Nathan was landing. The person who greeted her was anyone but Nathan. His grin was skewed and blood trickled over his bottom lip. His hair was thatched with a sand colored mess of hair over a scarred forehead. His eyes were dark, but not empty. There was a sick kind of light in them, the kind of light that she once saw in the eyes of a killer as he held up Jackie and killed her, thinking that she was Claire.

"Hello, Claire," the stranger said, and then lunged, but got no further. Will threw him into the wall with a nearly brain-burstingly loud sonic blast. The strange man crashed through the brick and disappeared.

"Who the hell is that?" Will asked, but Gavin was more intent on giving Claire an envelope with her name on it.

She looked at it confused. "What is this?" she asked.

Gavin shrugged. "Grant asked me to give it to you."

Suddenly, Grant made a little sense to her. "When?"

"Last night," Gavin said. "He said something like this might happen."

All around them, gunfire erupted into life. The world was a battlefield, and Claire was caught in the middle of something she could never comprehend. Spinning, she caught things all out of order. The strange man stepping from the wall and two crimson holes opening just over his right breast; the man Grant called Sterling holstering his pistol; Grant, falling from the rooftop.

_**Grant Woodruff**_

_**Los Angeles, California**_

He watched the helicopter and he knew it was time. Grant lunged for it, trying to stall. Here came the woman, Codename: Pride, with three people behind her carrying identical lumps that looked like people rolled up in carpet. He swung his blade, only to watch it pass through Pride as harmless as it would through water.

"I can't be stopped that easily," she said with a sneer.

"Oh, but you will," Grant said.

He never saw the gunman open fire on him from the helicopter.

_(A/N – Here we are again, at the end of an arc. It might be a few days while I finish plotting out the next arc, but I will update as soon as possible. The next arc will be entitled "Others Like Us" and will add a few more characters, as well as a glimpse at the future of mutants the way I see it._

_By the way, beyond what I've said about it already, you probably will never full understand the All-Gift. It's just one of those things that no one can ever truly explain. Was Jesus really the son of God, doing miracles? That isn't for me to say. And even though I created the All-Gift, I don't think it's my place to fully explain it. I'm sorry if that upsets you, but it's the way I feel. There will be more in the way of explanation latter on, but that's the best I can do._

_Love, Traumedy101)_


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